<!DOCTYPE html>
<html>
<head>
<meta charset="UTF-8">
<title>wandering tides by lallemanting</title>
<style type="text/css">

body { background-color: #ffffff; }
.CI {
text-align:center;
margin-top:0px;
margin-bottom:0px;
padding:0px;
}
.center   {text-align: center;}
.cover    {text-align: center;}
.full     {width: 100%; }
.quarter  {width: 25%; }
.smcap    {font-variant: small-caps;}
.u        {text-decoration: underline;}
.bold     {font-weight: bold;}
</style>
</head>
<body>
<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234190">wandering tides</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/lallemanting/pseuds/lallemanting'>lallemanting</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>SKAM (France)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Adventure &amp; Romance, Angst with a Happy Ending, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Miscommunication, Pirates, actually a lot of gratuitous tension due to being stuck in close quarters on a ship, inspired more by legend than actual history so be warned, sword fight-induced tension</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-05-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-10-28</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-02 19:14:51</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>69,644</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24234190</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/lallemanting/pseuds/lallemanting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Lucas has been hiding for much longer than he'd care to admit, his life bounded by the sea and a past he'd rather forget. But when he's brought aboard the <i> Black Rose </i> and befriends a pirate by the name of Eliott Demaury, he finds out there are just some things you can't keep hidden.</p><p>Or, a pirate au</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Eliott Demaury/Lucas Lallemant</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>202</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>336</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Aeolus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello everyone! I am so excited to finally be posting this after working on it for so long. Just want to put out a few disclaimers here before we get started:</p><p>1) They are pirates in this story, which means there will be stealing, sword fighting and some violence and similar things in line with being a pirate. But frankly, I'm also a baby, so none of it will be graphic or particularly dark and if anything does come up, I'll make sure to provide content warnings. But yeah, it will be relevant just because of the AU, so steer clear if that's not your thing<br/>2) This is not going to be historically accurate. While I actually have done quite a bit of research on the golden age of piracy in the Caribbean where this is set, and will be incorporating real places and facets of pirate life, this is also going to romanticize it quite a bit and also use aspects of pirate legends (so think more pirates of the caribbean more than anything else)</p><p>If you have any questions or comments, feel free to reach out on tumblr <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a> happy reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Lucas </em>
</p><p>It is hard to sleep sometimes knowing land is more easily plotted than water. </p><p>There is a permanence to existing where miles can be easily measured, where the dirt takes more years than Lucas will live to turn over and become something new. Where word of mouth can give precise locations of last-known whereabouts and one can track an area and cover it all, leaving no stone unturned, leaving no options for places to hide. That with endurance, everything can be found.</p><p>Water, though, is different. It’s been a part of Lucas’ life since before he was even born, the barrier at the edge of the world he knew. The ocean had always appeared to him as a savage, winsome beast. The kind of thing that contained a rage so great you could not hope to tame it – that to place yourself at its mercy would be a foolish thing, indeed. His mother had always taught him to stay away, to fear all that it could take. But as he had grown older it had started to take on a new shape. Something like freedom.</p><p>That’s the thing that really gets Lucas thinking about the sea.</p><p>It comes up here and there, but nothing ever really sticks. Lucas jumps from port to port, with nothing more than the clothes on his back and his mother’s compass strung on a chain tucked into his shirt. He’s crafty, is the thing, picking up tricks and acquiring slippery fingers and learning what it means to survive in places like that – where men come not to stay but instead to stop and trade and head out again on the water. Every place he ends up feels like a stepping stone.</p><p>The thing about the Caribbean is so much is the same and so much is different. The ports change hands often and the men change ships even more. There’s a kind of impermanence of life here, where the sun shines nearly all year and people from across the world fight over waters that never belonged to them in the first place. The battles of rich men being fought by poor men on an ocean they will, in most cases, never even see.</p><p>Somehow Lucas has seen much more of the islands than he had ever anticipated. Whether it’s a few months in one port or a few weeks doing menial labor on a ship only to be dropped and stranded in the next port, Lucas has spent so much of his recent life moving, nothing there to tether him down. Nothing, despite his best efforts to remain at sea, lasting longer than a month or two.</p><p>Which is how he comes to Tortuga. And how everything starts to change.</p><p> </p><p>It all begins with the tavern.</p><p>Lucas slips in the backdoor just after noon, the sun high in the sky, the heat pressing down around everyone and making them move slower, languidly slinking through the streets – the whole of the port moving as though it were coated in molasses. </p><p>The tavern then, is a bit of a relief. It’s no cooler inside truthfully, as the windows and doors have been thrown open to circulate the air and the heat rolls in waves, barely breaking their stride. But there’s a roof and therefore something between the sun’s glare and his skin and Lucas is grateful for it all the same.</p><p>Mika looks up from where he’s shifting boxes in the corner and smirks at him as he comes in. “Was wondering when you’d show up,” he says as he cracks open a crate and begins marking off the things inside. “Where have you been all morning?”</p><p>“Out,” Lucas replies, sitting down heavily in a chair and wiping the sweat off his face with his sleeve. “I went down to the docks.”</p><p>Mika raises an eyebrow. “What were you doing?”</p><p>“Looking.” Lucas doesn’t elaborate. He doesn’t need to explain what he was doing or what exactly he was looking for, even though he knows Mika will ask anyway. He’s kept pretty much to himself since he arrived in Tortuga a few weeks ago, speaking to barely anyone but Manon or Mika, and even that had been an accident. He’d never meant to make such an impression, but in the end it was necessary.</p><p>Mika grins at him. “Still trying to find someone to sweep you off your feet and take you far far away from here are you?” he laughs, winking when Lucas groans in response. “I’d think you’d have plenty of offers.”</p><p>“That’s what you think,” Lucas says, rolling his eyes, and ignoring the other half of what Mika’s hinting at, “but every ship I’ve asked says they’re not looking for new recruits <em> at this time </em>. It’s bullshit. They just don’t want to take on a random kid from the docks.”</p><p>Mika stands, looking at him with something akin to sympathy. “Don’t worry yourself too much,” he says. “I’m sure you’ll find something soon.” </p><p>Lucas only sighs and reclines back further in the chair. “I hope so.”</p><p>It’s quiet for a moment as Mika turns back to the crates in front of him, but then Lucas hears him clear his throat.</p><p> “Not to interrupt your wallowing, but we’re going to open up here soon, so if you could sweep up––”</p><p>Lucas pulls himself up and out of the chair, walking over to grab the broom. He turns and gives Mika the biggest, fakest smile he can muster. “That’s what I came back here for.”</p><p>“Sure,” Mika says, rolling his eyes. But then he laughs, “and I thought it was because Manon’s customers are such easy prey.”</p><p>“Well that too.” Lucas winks.</p><p>“You’re lucky Manon likes you.”</p><p>“That I am,” Lucas replies. </p><p>That was something Lucas hadn’t been expecting when he’d landed on the shores of Tortuga those few weeks back. He had been planning to hobble together what work he could and make up the difference on the side, just until he could find a ship willing to take him on.</p><p>Playing to one of his more particular strengths, Lucas had found Manon’s tavern his third or fourth night on the island and set up in one of the corners, tempting over-indulged narcissistic sailors or travelers (locals made the gambit too risky) to simply <em> find the lady</em>. For these men it was a chance to humiliate and prove their own self-importance. For Lucas, it was the opportunity to eat.</p><p>Lucas had never intended to become a resident expert of three-card monte, but desperation had made for a strange bedfellow and Lucas had picked it up from one of the older men he’d met while he was living on New Providence. To men like that, it was nothing. Merely a cheap trick you might pull when you’re bored. But Lucas had never had a strong enough stomach to want to follow through on the kinds of things those men truly liked to do, so he’d taken to perfecting it.</p><p>He was so good, in fact, that for three weeks, he’d gotten away with it without anyone noticing. He’d lure his customers in, most of them weak against any sort of gamble, and let them win a few hands, placing the three cards face down on the table and moving them around just quick enough to look like he was making an effort but slow enough the man could follow. Then he’d increase their bets. Double it a few times to make the payout better and then he would pull it – switching the cards discreetly in his hand as he laid them down so that they’d follow the wrong card the entire time. Or, when that didn’t work, he’d switch it in the flipover, so fast they’d never even notice. And he’d collect his winnings.</p><p>He liked the tavern for that. It was quieter than some of the rowdier places and tended to have richer patrons because of its general higher level of cleanliness. That, and the owner’s penchant for throwing out any person who caused a scene no questions asked, meant it felt a bit safer too.</p><p>He’d been right in the end, about that. One night one of the men had caught onto Lucas' little scam and promptly struck him, knocking him from his chair. He would have probably beat him if Mika hadn’t stepped in first, pulling Lucas behind him, and Manon hadn’t promptly kicked him out for use of violence.</p><p>He’d brought it up later to Manon, that he’d <em> also </em> been doing something that was rather untoward. But Manon had just waved him away with a smile. To her, it seemed, morals could be shifted in some regards. Taking a few extra coins off some wealthy sailors who would otherwise spend it on drink or women did not seem to cross that line.</p><p>(It wasn’t until later that Lucas found out about her dealings with the pirates. And then it all made a little more sense.)</p><p>And that night, when Manon had found him attempting to curl up in a pile of hay behind her barn, she’d nearly dragged him inside and shown him to a pallet in her backroom and gently cleaned the cut on his face. When he’d protested her charity, she’d rolled her eyes and told him to sweep up each morning before the tavern opened and they’d call it even. She’d even allowed (or really forced) him to bathe at regular intervals, claiming anyone who worked at her establishment should not stink as it would drive away customers.</p><p>But her customers were all philanderers, drinkers and pirates. They weren’t the sort of people that kept clean. It was kindness, disguised in a way Lucas would accept. From a stranger no less. And in a few weeks, Lucas had found himself slightly more at ease than he’d been in months, still wary but grateful for the kindnesses he’d been shown. And Lucas carried on his game, though now more for the amusement and to pass something along to Manon than the necessity. </p><p> </p><p>The tavern fills more slowly than usual once Mika opens it. Manon flits between the floor and a small room in the back of the building that Lucas knows doubles as her office, though she guards it with an unerring vigilance that has Lucas wondering what exactly it is she’s hiding. It wouldn’t be noticeable to the untrained eye. But months of living on the streets and years before that of careful observation have taught Lucas that watching is a most helpful teacher. So he sees when she locks the door behind her every time she leaves, when she holds meetings inside that can last for hours, when people, <em> pirates</em>, come looking for her and she greets them as old friends.</p><p>But tonight no one comes asking for her. Tonight she just asks him if he’s doing alright, makes sure he gets a portion of dinner once the food is ready and calls Mika over to pester him with her when he gives her short replies. </p><p>“He seems much less irritable than when we first met him, doesn’t he?” Manon asks when Mika steps next to her. </p><p>“It must be all the meals,” Mika says, looking him over.</p><p>Lucas scowls. “I wasn’t irritable.”</p><p>Mika laughs, clapping his hand down on Lucas’ shoulder. Lucas shrugs him off.</p><p>“Lucas, you nearly started a fight in <em> my </em> tavern,” Manon says seriously.</p><p>“I wasn’t the one who threw the first punch,” he says.</p><p>“Ah,” she says, considering, “but you were the one who gave him a reason.”</p><p>Lucas rolls his eyes. It’s not a new conversation, but something they’ve teased him constantly about in the past few weeks. But for some reason Lucas doesn’t mind. At least not from them.</p><p>“I don’t see your point,” he replies.</p><p>They all laugh, but when Lucas looks up at Manon he catches something passing over her face. But then he blinks and it’s gone again, and he thinks he must have imagined it.</p><p>“Maybe just that I’m glad you’re eating well,” she says. It’s not much, but something clenches still in Lucas’ chest. He smiles weakly at her.</p><p>There’s a loud crash from behind him as someone loses hold on their mug and Manon hands him the broom with a smile. He goes over to clean up the mess as best he can, though he doubts any of the patrons are really bothered. The sweeping, Lucas determined several weeks ago, is more for Manon’s benefit than anyone else’s.</p><p>He approaches the back corner of the tavern where the glass has shattered and finds himself near two men sitting close together. One is older, streaks of gray visible in his beard and hair, his face wrinkled and leathered from age and the sun. The other is younger, his hair and eyes dark and his face tanned and angular. His hands, Lucas notices, are worn and rough – probably from years of work.</p><p>The light is not as bright here and the men are leaning together and discussing something in quiet voices. But Lucas catches sight of the crests on their handles of their pistols as he leans over to move the shards of glass – employees, it seems, of one of the more major merchant enterprises in the area. With the way they’re sitting, Lucas can tell they’re discussing something they’d rather not have overheard. But Lucas is curious and as he sweeps he picks up bits of their conversation.</p><p>“...That’s only what I’ve heard. Apparently Mr. Marchand’s been taking on more men since he got those new ships. Trying to keep up with Mr. Richelieu I’d guess,” the older man is saying.</p><p>“How Mr. Richelieu keeps his crews I’ll never know,” the younger man replies. </p><p>“Well he hasn’t been recently from what I’ve heard. Had a few nasty run-ins with some pirates and half his crew bolted.”</p><p>“Is that right?”</p><p>The older man laughs. “Apparently. I mean I don’t blame them. I wouldn’t want to be skewered by a pirate for him of all people.”</p><p>“Less if you’re on Captain Munier’s ship.”</p><p>The older man downs his drink and sighs. “You’re telling me. Glad I got out of there when I could.”</p><p>“Must be nice to be a pirate though,” the younger man says wistfully. “Just getting to take what you want. End up with all that money for yourself.”</p><p>The older man scoffs. “Well I’m not looking to end up in a noose.”</p><p>“Neither am I, calm down. Just saying it’d be nice to make more money is all.”</p><p>“Well then if you want to do it the proper way, you put your head down, do the work and work your way up,” the older man says, sounding exasperated. ”So we should look into working on one of Mr. Marchand’s ships, like I’ve said. He’s coming here in a few weeks apparently, to recruit...”</p><p>Lucas tunes them out again as he picks up the last few pieces of glass and feels his throat tighten.</p><p>It’s small, but it’s a chance. A way to get himself out on the sea away from everything else. No one can follow the same path twice on the water. It churns and changes and leaves no opportunity for footprints or a trail imprinted in the water. There’s safety there that land doesn’t provide and Lucas is desperate to find it. He’s lingered here for far too long. </p><p>He walks away, emptying the glass among the other garbage and takes a deep breath. He’ll go to Manon. It’s clear she is more involved in the enterprises of the area than she cares to let on and he figures it is worth a shot. All he cares about is the promise of the open sea.</p><p> </p><p>He seeks her the next day in her office.</p><p>“What do you need, Lucas?” Manon asks, not looking up from her papers.</p><p>He fidgets by the doorframe, pulling at his sleeves and pressing a finger to the compass hanging at his sternum to settle himself, trying to find his words. The office is smaller than he expected, with deep red wallpaper and no windows, which makes the whole thing a bit stifling. There’s a large desk placed near the back, where Manon is sitting, a small oil lamp sat on one corner, various documents surrounding her. There are two chairs too, placed in front of the desk, and a large chest with a lock in another corner. Altogether it feels serious and a bit overwhelming and almost nothing like the Manon he has begun to know.</p><p>“What do you know about getting a job on a ship? Particularly Mr. Marchand’s ships.”</p><p>Manon looks up and narrows her eyes at him. “What are you talking about?”</p><p>“You know I’ve been looking for work on a ship and I overheard some sailors yesterday talking about how his ships may be recruiting,” Lucas answers, shifting from one foot to another. It should be strange, maybe, to ask about other opportunities from the person who has you currently employed. Only, Lucas knows he’s never been a permanent employee for Manon, especially since she can only pay him in food and lodging and while appreciated, it’s not anything long term. It’s time, maybe, to think about the future. “It’s just been something I’ve been thinking about.”</p><p>“Something you’ve been thinking about.”</p><p>Lucas shrugs, moving into the room to sink into one of the chairs across from her. “I can’t stay here forever,” he says slowly, fidgeting with his fingers in his lap. “And while I appreciate what you’ve done for me, I think it’s time to move on.” </p><p>Manon’s lips come together for a moment as she looks at him, the oil lamp casting a strange glow on her face. It’s midday, but here, in this small hidden room, time is much harder to place.</p><p>“Do you have any experience working on a ship?” she asks, her voice soft and considering.</p><p>Lucas nods. “A little,” he says. “I mean, I grew up in a place like this, spent a lot of time close to ships, even if I wasn’t on the water and then took a few odd placements in the past few months, though it wasn’t anything permanent. And,” he adds after a moment, “I’m a fast learner.”</p><p>Manon smiles, a knowing look on her face. One that seems to understand that the trait Lucas is most fond of in himself is his adaptability. The way he can cast off and not look back, picking up whatever might come his way and make something out of nothing.</p><p>“I might know of something,” she says finally. “But I’m not sure it’s exactly what you’re looking for. It wouldn’t be on a ship like Mr. Marchand’s.”</p><p>“That was just an idea. I’d take anything. Just want to make some money and get away from here,” Lucas says quickly.</p><p>Manon hums and clasps her fingers together, bringing her thumbs up to rest against her mouth. She looks at him again, the way she does, like she understands not only what Lucas is asking her, but also the things he’s left unsaid.</p><p>“Any particular reason you’re looking to leave now?”</p><p>Lucas rubs his face, can feel the prickle of his unshaven face against his fingers and smiles at her. “It’s time for something new.”</p><p> </p><p>A week passes without any word from Manon, and Lucas feels almost nothing but that familiar itch for something different, this need that takes root and demands novelty, excitement.</p><p>The summer rages into itself in full force, sun blazing and a world that seems to go quiet for a few hours each afternoon as everyone takes refuge indoors. It’s only really the nights, after the sun has dipped below the horizon that’s truly bearable. And it’s where Lucas thrives.</p><p>With no news on possible opportunities on the sea, Lucas finds himself returning to the game he knows best. It’s stupid, and fairly unnecessary now seeing as the rewards are so meager, but it’s thrilling all the same. The setup, the confusion, the passing something just below someone’s nose and having them walk away none the wiser. It’s this excitement, this minute sense of power that surges through Lucas every time he gets away with it that keeps him coming back for more. </p><p>So it’s what he does.</p><p>He’s stationed himself in the back corner of Manon’s tavern in his usual spot – back to a wall, clear view to all the exits and within Mika’s eyesight in case he were to need to step in. The crowd is rowdy and willing tonight. </p><p>Men have piled into Tortuga in a kind of unlimitless stream since the weather turned fair, the island an opportunity to walk on solid ground before heading out to the waves again. That, and the drink, and, Lucas imagines for some, the women. It’s a bit overwhelming really, the constant stench of unwashed men, most with an overinflated sense of self, their presence an expected annoyance on anyone who lived on the island.</p><p>But they’re good for business.</p><p>And good, it seems, for Lucas’s business.</p><p>He’s managed to run the trick on a few men already. One, apparently, had been some sort of officer, who upon losing to Lucas’ con, had nearly thrown a fit in the middle of the tavern. But Mika had managed to calm him down enough to get him to speak with Manon. And once the men saw Manon, they tended to wizen right up in hopes she’d look at them, even for the night. (She never did. She barely even spared them a glance.)</p><p>Lucas had also been watching the door, as he always did, monitoring it for potential targets. Mostly he was watching for those who looked like they would put up a few coins on a bet, and had them to spare. Though most men came to Tortuga looking a little rough around the edges, there was always a fine cloth or an expensive hilt of a sword to give them away. And Lucas always noticed.</p><p>That night, Lucas takes notice of several people. There’s the officer, who Lucas spots because of the make of the pistol on his hip. There’s a large man with several gold teeth and a loud laugh that seems to warrant attention. Another man, a drunk most likely, who’s already on his fifth pint, and therefore an easy target. And two young sailors who seem fresh and eager, but naive – another perfect starting point.</p><p>And then there’s a group – two men and a woman – who walk in through the front doors only to be greeted by Mika like an old friend and ushered into the back room to meet with Manon. </p><p>The strangest part is it is not an uncommon occurrence this – the strangers, though apparently to Lucas only, who come in only to be brought to meet with Manon and then exit through the back door, leaving as quickly as they’ve come. So the strange part, in the end, is that Lucas notices them at all. </p><p>They’re rather unassuming, the group, fading into the background easily so that one’s eyes could trail over them and not stop to watch. (Though Lucas wonders later if this is a practiced art.) They step through the crowd quietly, clearly deliberate in their movements as they walk toward the door to the hallway behind the main hall. </p><p>So it just happens that Lucas finishes another round of his game, collects his prize and then leans back, taking a swig of his drink at the very moment they enter the tavern. It just so happens that he catches the flash of a compass as one of the men flicks it open and shut, open and shut. And it’s a coincidence, really, that has Lucas tracing the arm of that man from his hand that clutches the compass, up over the flimsy material of his sleeve, to the undone buttons of his shirt and then, finally, to his face, only to find beautiful storm gray eyes looking back at him.</p><p>Lucas looks away quickly, the shame of being caught turning his cheeks pink, his heart betraying him as it beats rapidly in his chest. He plays with one of the coins in front of him, and then runs a hand through his hair, knowing that he’s messed it up, counting to ten before he chances a glance up again. </p><p>The man isn’t looking anymore. The three of them are talking to Mika, evidently not for the first time as he kisses them all and is met with warm smiles. Lucas tries to focus on what they’re saying, trying to determine who they are and what they’re doing here, but he can’t focus, keeps finding himself being drawn back to the man – the man with his wild chestnut hair and gray eyes and the hint of a beard on his face. So Lucas looks his fill. </p><p>He watches as Mika walks them over to the other corner where he knows they’ll disappear to meet with Manon, but he can’t stop looking, not until the man is completely gone from his sight. And it’s a good thing, in the end, because Lucas doesn’t miss when the man turns back just before he turns down the hallway and finds Lucas again. Their eyes meet, the man smiles, and then he’s gone.</p><p>It’s a smile, just a smile, but something stirs in the pit of Lucas’ stomach all the same. He stares at the spot the man just occupied for a moment, taking a deep breath and letting the air fill his lungs. It’s not often that he lets himself look. And it’s not often, really, in the time he’s spent fighting for his own survival that he does anything more than look. So he lets the man’s face linger, for a moment, in his mind’s eye.</p><p>And then he swallows, rubs his hand over his face, and gets back to his game.</p><p> </p><p>He’s not sure how much time has passed since the strangers walked into the tavern and then back to meet with Manon. Mika had come over to check on Lucas’ earnings for the night and point out people he thought would be easy targets before sitting down and getting Lucas to let him win a few rounds to drum up interest. In the end it works, as it almost always does.</p><p>Lucas finds himself at the table with the two young sailors sitting there in front of him. They can’t be much older than Lucas, maybe a year or two. But their naivety shows in the way they haven’t even attempted to hide the mark of the company they work for. It’s like they’re bragging to an island full of thieves and degenerates that they receive regular pay. Lucas knows he can’t be the only one who’s singled them out, but they make for easy money regardless.</p><p>Normally having an audience that knows the mark makes the whole thing a little harder, in case the mark’s friend notices the switch. Two pairs of eyes are better than one and all that. But Lucas is grateful for the challenge, his body itching for some distraction, for a way to focus all his energy and come to the eventual payoff.</p><p>He’s a few rounds in, having gradually built up the winnings by letting the man win and then offering to double his winnings if he guesses correctly the next round, when he pulls the switch. It’s a bit risky, that the man could choose to walk away before Lucas has decided it’s time for him to lose, but it’s one that usually pays off. This time it does as well.</p><p>“I don’t understand!” the sailor shouts, pointing at the cards on the table and turning to look at his companion as Lucas reveals his choice. A Joker. “Where’s the Queen?”</p><p>Lucas just shrugs. “Seems like luck was not on your side tonight gentlemen.” He reaches out and sweeps up the coins they have just lost, jostling them gently in his palm. </p><p>“But,” the man continues, indignant, “you must have done something. The Queen should be there.”</p><p>“Perhaps your skills of observation are not as acute as you seem to believe they are,” Lucas says cooly and presses his lips together. “Now, thank you for playing, but I must ask you to move along.”</p><p>Luckily the sailors seem to understand his tone of voice and the companion who had been sitting quietly by tugs at the other’s elbow and takes him from his seat with little complaint. Lucas sighs and leans back a bit in his seat. There is something eternally satisfying about taking the money of men who think they are smarter than him and it is hard not to relish, just a bit when he beats them.</p><p>He opens his hand to count the coins in his palm, a relatively meager sum but money all the same. He is distracted for a moment and fails to notice someone slide into the seat in front of him, propping their elbows up on the table. </p><p>“Can I play?” A soft voice asks him, and Lucas starts, whipping his head up and banging his knee on the corner of the table as he does so.</p><p>“Fuck,” Lucas whispers to himself, rubbing his knee as he looks up. He feels his stomach twist as he takes in the man in front of him, unexpected but rather exciting. It’s the stranger from before with the wild hair and the gray eyes, a hint of a smile playing at his lips. Lucas feels as though the wind has been knocked out of him just a bit. He swallows deeply and then meets his eye across the table.</p><p>The stranger lifts his eyebrows at him. “Well?” He pushes a few coins in Lucas’ direction.</p><p>Lucas blinks, his senses rushing back to him as he orients himself. “Oh, yes, of course,” he says quickly, picking up the cards from the table and pushing them back into place, discreetly setting up the deck while he pretends to shuffle. “Have you ever played before?”</p><p>“Only once,” the stranger replies, tilting his head to the side only once. Lucas cannot help the way his gaze is transfixed by the movement. “But it’s not too complicated I think.”</p><p>Lucas chuckles. “No, not too complicated.” He takes a deep breath, trying to settle himself back into the role he is normally so good at playing. It unnerves him, how this stranger has managed to upset it, even for a moment. “It is actually very simple,” he says. “All you have to do is find the lady.”</p><p>He holds up the queen of hearts, flourishing it in front of the stranger’s face as his showmanship takes over. He has done this hundreds, if not thousands, of times before and this is no different. The stranger is a willing mark, someone with something to lose for Lucas’ gain. It’s just how these things go.</p><p>The stranger smiles looking at the card and then directly at Lucas as he takes the other two cards from the deck in his hand. Lucas meets his gaze once, holds it for a moment, if only to prove to himself that he can, and then looks back down at the cards as he lays them out on the table. </p><p>“Ready?” he asks.</p><p>“Always.”</p><p>Lucas shuffles the cards in front of him, taking care with the speed and then stops, waiting for the stranger to choose his card. He is unlike many of the men who pass through the tavern. He is worn a bit, yes, from what looks like the sun and hard work and his hair is a mess of tangles most likely courtesy of the salty spray from the ocean. But there’s a softness to his eyes, one that Lucas can see he tries to hide that intrigues him as the man peers at the table to choose his card.</p><p>“That one,” he says confidently. Lucas reaches out and turns it over, revealing the queen. He smiles.</p><p>“Care to double your wager?”</p><p>He plays another hand and then one more, letting the stranger win each time, watching for signs of his confidence growing. But the stranger remains calm in a way that Lucas is not used to. He’s used to men with big egos and something to prove. The stranger is nothing like that. Lucas almost feels bad when he calls for another round, knowing it is time to trade the cards.</p><p>He shuffles them again and lays them out, performing the same lazy task as before, switching the cards until they have moved several places and then leaning back to let the stranger make his decision. The stranger pauses and looks over the table and then reaches out, delicately pointing to the card on the far left.</p><p>“That one,” he says.</p><p>So Lucas reaches out, another card in hand to flip it over, trading the one on the table – the true money card, the queen – with the one in his palm. It’s practiced, nearly effortless, and nearly invisible. But then again, perhaps not invisible enough.</p><p>“Oh I’m sorry,” Lucas says in his well-practiced way as he reveals the card to be a Joker, “but it appears you have chosen wrong.”</p><p>But instead of getting angry, the stranger smirks. </p><p>“Have I?” he asks. And before Lucas can realize what the stranger is doing, he quickly reaches across the table and catches Lucas’ wrist, delicately plucking the hidden queen from his hand and dropping it onto the table. </p><p>Lucas gapes at him, looking between the card and his face, waiting for signs of rage or violence. He has been discovered a few times, but no one has ever found the queen so quickly. </p><p>“I…” Lucas starts, but he finds he cannot seem to think of any words.</p><p>“Let me ask again,” the stranger says, smirking. “Have I <em> really </em>chosen wrong, Lucas Lallemant?”</p><p>Lucas feels his heart drop to his stomach as his pulse quickens and his eyes dart around searching for the closest exit. </p><p>“How do you know my name?” he hisses across the table, quickly shoving the coins he had won tonight into his pocket and grasping the hilt of his sword with his other hand. “What do you want?”</p><p>The man’s eyes widen as he looks at Lucas for a moment, seemingly perplexed by his reaction but then suddenly he is shaking his head and laughing. </p><p>“No, sorry, I don’t want anything,” he says, raising his hands up in mock surrender. “Just, Manon sent me to get you.”</p><p>Lucas’ shoulders relax instantly but he maintains his gaze, hoping the relief is not evident on his face and something more intimidating is there instead.</p><p>“What the <em> fuck</em>.”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” the stranger says again, shrugging as his mouth lifts in an annoyingly endearing half smile. “I just thought it would be fun to mess with you a bit.”</p><p>Lucas just stares at him, his mouth dropping open just a bit as he shakes his head. The stranger seems not to notice, or perhaps just does not care.</p><p>He stands and takes a step before turning back to Lucas and looking him over. </p><p>“Well, come on,” he says lightly, nodding his head in the direction of Manon’s office. “Don’t want to keep them waiting.”</p><p> </p><p>Lucas somewhat reluctantly follows the stranger toward the back of the tavern, the din quieting down as they turn into the hallway. He wouldn’t normally just follow someone like that – too many risks involved – but Lucas <em> had </em> seen him come in and speak with Mika and then disappear into the back, so it feels like a safe bet. Not to mention this somewhat annoying feeling Lucas gets whenever he meets the stranger’s eyes that makes him want to trust him. </p><p>When he finally steps into Manon’s office, he is greeted by a rather unfamiliar sight. There is Manon sitting behind her desk, yes, but also the two other strangers he had seen come in before sitting in front of it.</p><p>“I was beginning to wonder where you both were,” Manon says smiling as they walk in. “Close the door would you?” she says to the stranger, who shuts and locks it behind them before sitting down on the chest against the wall.</p><p>“What’s going on?” Lucas asks, warily looking around at the three nameless strangers in front of him as he comes to stand next to the chairs.</p><p>Manon smiles delightedly at him. “You said you wanted to get on a ship,” she says.</p><p>“I did,” he says slowly.</p><p>“Well,” Manon replies, and then she holds out her hand and gestures at the strangers sitting there, “I found you one.”</p><p>Lucas swallows as he stands there, unsure what he is supposed to say or who he should be addressing. He smiles though, at Manon’s words, a kind of excitement rushing up within him at the thought that he could be out on the ocean soon. But as he looks around at the people sitting there, he cannot help but think they are unlike any other sailors he has ever seen before.</p><p>“I am Captain Imane Bakhellal,” the woman says, saving Lucas from speaking as she stands from her chair and turns to face him. “This is Mr. Sofiane Alaoui, our quartermaster,” she gestures at the curly haired man sitting next to her who nods at him, “and you’ve already met our navigator, Mr. Eliott Demaury.”</p><p><em> Eliott Demaury</em>. Lucas forces himself not to look over at the gray-eyed stranger.</p><p>“I thought we were going to try out <em> Sea Artist</em>,” Demaury says from where he sits on the chest. “It sounds so much cooler than ‘navigator.’”</p><p>Captain Bakhellal rolls her eyes, but Lucas can see the smile she bites back. "No, we’re not calling you our <em> Sea Artist</em>. No one calls it that.”</p><p>“Some people call it that.”</p><p>“Not us.”</p><p>Lucas does turn then, and sees Demaury lean back against the wall, an exaggerated pout on his lips. He winks when he catches Lucas looking. Lucas glares at him for a moment and then turns back to the captain.</p><p>“We belong to a ship called The <em> Black Rose</em>,” she says.</p><p>The <em> Black Rose</em>. Lucas has to stop the laugh that nearly bubbles up. He has heard of that ship before, mostly in whispers and drunken tales from the sailors whose paths he crosses around the port. Fearsome and ruthless, they had all said. Merciless. Pirates. It’s the kind of ship with a reputation, and looking at the people sitting before him, it seems unclear how they got it.</p><p>“You’re pirates,” he says slowly.</p><p>Captain Bakhellal nods. “We’re pirates.”</p><p>“You’re the captain of the <em> Black Rose</em>?” Lucas tries to keep the disbelief out of his voice. It’s just that they all seem so young to be running a pirate vessel and far more polite than he would have expected. “The fearsome ship that’s been wreaking havoc on the Caribbean for many months?”</p><p>“So you’ve heard of us,” Alaoui grins. “Good.”</p><p>Lucas tries to hide his smile. He believes them, but they look so unlike what he expects pirates to be, so unlike the few pirates he has met, especially those passing through Manon’s pub that for a moment he hardly dares believe it. But they are all looking at him and no one has yet revealed it to be a joke, so he lets himself believe, even just for now. He catches Manon’s eye from where she sits behind her desk. She nods at him.</p><p>“Are you offering me a place on your ship?” he asks, turning back to the captain.</p><p>Captain Bakhellal nods. “If you want it. We’re in need of a new crew member and Manon speaks very highly of you, which means quite a lot.”</p><p>Lucas shakes his head as he tries to gather his words, take it all in.</p><p>“You’re sure?” he asks.</p><p>“Very,” she replies.</p><p>And he knows it would make sense to think about it. Knows that he should ask more questions, hear them out. But he sees the way Manon is beaming, trusts her judgment in a way he’s hardly admitted to himself, and he’s so desperate to get out on the ocean that any further thought feels unnecessary.</p><p>“Manon tells us you are rather quick on your feet and handy with a sword?” Alaoui asks from his seat.</p><p>Lucas nods, hand automatically moving toward the sword at his hip. “Yes,” he says. “I spent many years training.”</p><p>“Good,” Alaoui says, nodding. “Very good. That will likely prove itself useful.”</p><p>Lucas feels the excitement thunder away in his chest as his chance for the sea comes ever closer.</p><p>“Well then, do you accept?” Captain Bakhellal asks him. </p><p>“I do,” he replies, nodding. He can’t help feeling like the winds of change have finally turned in a favorable direction.</p><p>“That’s very good news,” she says as she holds out her hand for him to shake. “Welcome to the <em> Black Rose. </em>”</p><p> </p><p>It’s easier to pack than Lucas would care to admit. He doesn’t own much save the clothes he’s wearing and the compass he’d taken from his mother’s things after she died. It’s by design – to make it as easy to come and go as possible, but whenever he’s forced to take inventory like this of the things he owns only to come up with almost nothing, there’s a part of him that feels impossibly sad, that yearns for a place to keep his things, a place that’s worthy of collection. But it’s not something he’s known for a long time.</p><p>It’s early the next morning, but Captain Bakhellal had told him they wanted to leave before midday, so he thinks it’s best to go down to the docks early so he doesn’t miss them. He thinks about slipping out, leaving before anyone is awake to notice he’s gone, like normal. Appearing for a few weeks only to slip away without warning. Only this time it feels a little less forgivable, though he still can’t find it in himself to seek anyone out.</p><p>He folds his only jacket over his arm as it is far too warm for it to be comfortable, and pulls the compass out from the folds of his shirt, feeling the worn metal chain it hangs on. He turns it over in his palm, examining the intricate details of the metal before he clicks the button on the side, causing the cover to spring open. On one side is the compass face, the needle pointing ever faithfully northward. On the other side, tucked into the cover is a piece of old, folded paper. Lucas swipes his finger over it, lingering for a moment, and then claps the compass shut again, tucking it back to rest on his chest. He takes one last look at the small room he has been sleeping in for a past few months, the pallet he’d been using as a bed pushed neatly into one corner, and then steps outside.</p><p>It’s a strange sense of gratefulness then that Lucas can barely name when he steps out into the closed tavern to find Manon sitting at one of the tables, documents spread out in front of her. She looks up as he enters the room, and Lucas watches as she notes the coat in his hand and the hat on his head and she smiles, turning back to her letter.</p><p>“You’re all set to go?” she asks quietly, her voice barely breaking through the quiet of the early morning.</p><p>“Yes,” Lucas replies.</p><p>“Good,” she says, looking back at him as he moves closer. “I think you’ll do well with them.”</p><p>“You know them well then?” Lucas asks because there is still a part of him that’s curious, doesn’t want to trust that he could be receiving this good fortune. </p><p>Manon laughs. “Very well. Since before they acquired their own ship. They’re good people,” she says and then pauses. “Or at least they try to be. And that’s the most important thing.”</p><p>Lucas nods but stays quiet, searching for the words he’s not sure will come.</p><p>“You have everything, yes?” Manon asks him, breaking through his thoughts.</p><p>Lucas nods again as he heads for the door. He pauses just as he reaches for the handle and turns back.</p><p>“Thank you,” he says quickly, “for, uh, you know…”</p><p>“I know,” Manon waves him away. “I’m happy to do it.”</p><p>“Say goodbye to Mika for me.”</p><p>“You know he’ll be upset that you didn’t say it yourself.”</p><p>“He’s going to have to live with that.”</p><p>Lucas smiles, and strangely, he feels his heart clench at the thought of leaving the tavern and Manon and Mika behind. It’s an uncomfortable feeling, to be sure, but one that he has not felt in quite some time.</p><p>“And Lucas?” Manon calls, stopping him as he goes to pull the door open. He turns back to her. “Be safe.” And then she adds, almost as an afterthought: “You can trust them.”</p><p>Lucas feels his face burn as he turns and closes the door, heading out into the early summer sun.</p><p> </p><p>When Lucas reaches the docks, he is not surprised to find he is the first one there. He leans against the stone wall where he had often come to sit and watch the ships go by in his few weeks on the island. It’s exciting to know it’s for the last time.</p><p>Lucas feels a gentle breeze wash over him and whip through his hair. He turns his face to catch it, closing his eyes and breathing it in. There was something in the way the air has changed slightly from yesterday, the wind shifting just a touch and bringing with it the renewed sharp scent of the sea. It smells like something new.</p><p>It takes another hour or two before Lucas hears someone calling for him and looks up to find Demaury waving him over to the other edge of the dock. He pushes himself off the wall and walks, faster than he would care to admit, over to where Demaury, Alaoui and Captain Bakhellal are waiting.</p><p>They greet him warmly and throw a few things into a dinghy, explaining that most of the other crew members have already returned to the <em> Black Rose </em>, bringing everything else they needed back with them.</p><p>They climb into the small boat that will take them out to the much larger ship that waits out in the ocean and settle in.</p><p>“Ready?” Demaury asks him.</p><p>Lucas grins. “Always.”</p><p>Alaoui rows, the small boat rocking gently over the waves as Lucas turns back, taking in his last glimpse of land for what he hopes is quite a while.</p><p>“She’s there,” Alaoui says finally, pointing at a large shape of a ship floating out at sea, previously obscured from view by a jutted outcropping of rocks. “Just waiting for us to come back to her.”</p><p>Lucas can’t help but smile as they ride through the waves. </p><p>When they finally reach the ship, Lucas can’t help but marvel at it. The dark, smooth wood contrasting against the large white sails that spread out across the water. And there, rippling in the wind, a large black flag with a white skull standing out against the clear blue sky. A pirate ship befitting of its name and reputation. A new place to take Lucas in.</p><p>Demaury holds out his hand for Lucas to take as he steps on board. He tries not to notice how rough the skin of his hand feels against his fingers, how strong his grasp is as he helps Lucas on deck. But he does and he feels his chest tighten just a bit.</p><p>He looks around himself at the scene before him. The deck is smooth and bright, shining in the midday sun. Other crew members are milling about, clearly getting the ship in order to set sail soon. It is organized chaos at its finest – no clear, observable pattern or system and yet it seems like everyone knows their job and is doing it. </p><p>“Well,” Captain Bakhellal says as they stand on deck. “Demaury, I’ll leave Lallemant in your capable hands. Show him around and <em> be nice</em>.”</p><p>Demaury rolls his eyes but then turns and looks at Lucas with a smile that can only be described as blinding. His heart beats a little faster in his chest.</p><p>“Well, Lallemant,” Demaury says with a grin, letting his name roll off his tongue. “Welcome aboard.”</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>hope you all enjoyed! quite a bit of this is written so I’m hoping for pretty regular updates! next chapter will be in eliott's POV</p><p>please let me know what you think! kudos and comments are much appreciated and you can also find me on tumblr <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Notus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you so much to everyone for their lovely feedback here and on tumblr on the first chapter! I really appreciate it.</p>
<p>here's chapter 2! hope you enjoy it as well. some brief tw for some violent threats and blood in the section starting with "When he reemerges into the sunshine..." I'll put a summary in the end notes!</p>
<p>happy reading!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Eliott</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott awakes with a start.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s eerily quiet in the ship, the only sounds are the occasional grunt of Idriss snoring next door and the water crashing gently against the sides. Eliott lies on his back and tries to steady his breathing, aware of the cold sweat that lingers over his body. He breathes in, counting the time it takes to fill his lungs, and back out again, trying to calm his racing heart. A reminder that despite his dream, the air still comes and goes again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The ship rocks slightly as Eliott turns over in his bunk, trying to get comfortable again. He hasn’t had this dream for a few weeks now – long enough that he had come close to convincing himself that it might not reappear, but clearly he had been wrong. Now – lying here in the middle of the night – he’s not quite sure why he ever thought it would go away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He closes his eyes again only to be met with dark flashes of a bone-chilling cold and cracking wood and whips them open again, his eyes adjusting back to the simple wooden cabin below deck he’s lucky enough to get to himself. It’s one of the greatest perks of being an officer, of having the kind of responsibility that can sometimes be rather overwhelming, even if it only is a small damp space he can barely stand up in. But at least here he can let his carefully constructed facade fall, even if it’s just for a few hours.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He contemplates trying to get back to sleep for a moment, but he knows it won’t come easily. There’s too much uneasiness in his chest, and the clamminess that clings to him is different from the normal tack of the remnants of salt water. So he gets up and quietly makes his way out of his room and up onto the main deck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s cool outside, is the first thing Eliott notices when he steps up onto the deck. The night is calm and it’s late. Or early. Eliott looks up for a moment, taking in the stars above him and noticing the pattern that’s lit up. From the looks of it, it’s the early hours of the morning, an hour or so before dawn. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He walks over to the edge of the deck and braces himself against the smooth wood of the railing as he looks out across the inky black sea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s the time of day on the ocean that can either bring him calm and peacefulness or immense fear, depending on his mood. On the good days, the darkness of the water reflects the stars, shining up and giving him a double world, a kaleidoscope of life laid out before him, the horizon no barrier. It’s a symbol instead, for the endless passages one could make across the churning waves, if only they possessed a boat and a strong mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But on bad days, the blackness is almost all-consuming. Out here, where the quietness can last for days, peace can devolve into eeriness, a clock with no tick just waiting for something to happen. The darkness of the sea concealing its depths, and perhaps, the mysteries and horrors it hides there. Eliott has never been one lacking in imagination, and so when his mind takes off, it’s not hard to create a monster that’s come just for him, just to find him…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott blinks rapidly and looks away from the water and toward the sky. It’s a balance out here, and he’s had to learn when it’s enough. Many a sailor has spoken of the enchanting nature of the sea, a wily beast prone to pulling people in but only reluctantly letting them out again. It’s easy to forget yourself out here. Eliott knows that well enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The stars are bright, shining points of light, that Eliott knows are dazzling to even the most disconnected of passersby. For most, he imagines, they’re simply a thing of beauty. But for him, they’re a tool too, leading him on a path to somewhere and nowhere all at once. One of his own design. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes another step, then two, fidgeting again with the compass in his pocket, something unsettled under his skin. He looks up at the sky, and goes through the motions, hoping it will aid in calming his racing heart.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He locates Ursa Major first, and then traces his eyes along the lines of the stars that make up its body, finding the two pointer stars on the farthest side of the dipper using those as a guide.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then, the north star. Polaris. The point that could guide him still, even when nothing else is left. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks, breathes, and the ship sails through the open water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He inhales deeply, letting the tang of the salt fill his nose and settle his body back into himself as he leans back against some old barrels. His heart has evened out again and when Eliott closes his eyes, it only reflects the darkness of the night back. His breath comes easier and the nightmare fades.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott hears a sound behind him and jolts at the noise, turning quickly to peer into the darkness behind him to find its source. In all likelihood, it’s Felix, the black ship’s cat, chasing a mouse or knocking something over as he’s prone to do, but Eliott can’t help but feel like someone’s watching him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He scans the fading darkness, the dusty streaks of first light begin to appear on the horizon, turning black to indigo as the sun prepares to appear. And then he sees him, the new recruit, perched on a crate in the corner, almost hidden in the shadow of the mast. Even from here Eliott can make out the sharp blue of his eyes, piercing and wary but enthralling all the same. It was the first thing that Eliott had noticed when he saw him across the tavern two weeks ago – his eyes and the way they shined clear and blue like Eliott’s favorite sea. Something twists in his chest to find them focused on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott looks back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s just a brief moment, but Eliott notices how the corner of Lallemant’s mouth picks up, how he stares at Eliott with something like an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he goes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He wanders across the deck until he’s only a few feet from Lallemant, hands coming to rest on a smooth railing as he looks out across the water and then glances towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s looked away as Eliott approached, turning instead to face the sky where the stars are rapidly fading in the loosening blackness. His profile is familiar, despite Eliott telling himself he’s barely noticed him, the sharp slope of his nose, the strong arch of his eyebrows, the deep pink of his lips, the wild mess of hair on his head, only heightened by the humidity and the spray of the salt from the sea. He’s still dressed in his clothes of the day, his sword strapped to his hip.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott inhales, suddenly much more aware of his flimsy shirt, several of the buttons undone, and the pants he’d pulled on in his hurry to get up on deck. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They put you on night duty?” Eliott asks, breaking the silence. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I volunteered.” His voice is smooth in the early morning air.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trying to get on the Captain’s good side?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant huffs out a laugh. “Something like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Despite their initial meeting and Eliott showing him the ropes of the ship, they haven’t actually had much time to speak. With all the meetings Imane has been calling with the other officers to finalize their plans and decide on the next course of action, and with Lallemant’s duties generally falling to something less consuming than Eliott’s own, there hadn’t been much opportunity. That, and Lallemant’s immediate taking to Yann, having apparently met him previously when they were both living on the streets in New Providence, Eliott had found himself having less and less of a reason to seek him out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that there was any particular reason to be doing so, but Eliott knew what it was to be thrust without warning into a new situation and wanted Lallemant to feel at ease, even while racing through the water on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll let you in a secret,” Eliott says, Lallemant turning his head to meet Eliott’s gaze, raising a brow in question. “The Captain is not as scary as she seems.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant smirks, his eyes raking over Eliott, pausing for just a moment too long before meeting his gaze. “Are you sure you should be telling me that? Aren’t I supposed to be a bit afraid? At least for the first few weeks?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Maybe normally,” Eliott muses, “ But Captain Bakhallel isn’t like that. And anyway you don’t strike me as someone who scares easily.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant’s face rearranges into something else and he turns his eyes back to the water. “You don’t even know me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true,” Eliott agrees. He pauses, and then, “At least not yet.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He catches the way the corner of Lallemant’s mouth turns up. If he’s trying to hide it, he’s not doing a very good job.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Have you been adjusting okay?” Eliott asks, hoping his voice sounds casual, not at all like he’s prying. He’s genuinely curious, really, to know if Lallemant has meshed well with the rest of the crew.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant shrugs. “It’s alright.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just alright?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine, it’s been incredible. Best job I’ve ever had.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott huffs out a laugh. “Now you’re just making fun of me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a pause as Lallemant looks at him, poised as if to apologize in case Eliott showed any sign of irritation. But Lallemant relaxes when he catches Eliott’s smile.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he says, rubbing his hand over his face. “It really is great. Better than I’d imagined, and I’d been holding out for something like this for a while.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott smiles at that. “But?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No buts, just it’s a lot to learn,” Lallemant replies. “I keep worrying I’ll make a mistake.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It happens,” Eliott says honestly. “But then we fix it. Most things are not irreparable.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a different attitude than most of the other jobs I’ve had.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you’ll find life on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> is different to almost everything else. And,” Eliott says, pausing as he looks out at the horizon, “It stops feeling like a job after a while. For most of us it’s more like home.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s quiet for a moment as Eliott turns back to Lallemant and sees the way he clenches his jaw and takes a deep breath. The way his eyes refuse to look back for a moment as he watches the sea roll by.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t you have a ship to navigate?” Lallemant says finally, hands running down his legs to rest on his knees, his tone shifting back into the man Eliott recognizes from the tavern. He lets it pass.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Trying to get rid of me Lallemant?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant only rolls his eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right though, I should probably go change and check in with the Captain,” Eliott says, pushing off the railing to stand again. “And you should probably try to get some sleep. The rest of the crew will be getting up soon.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I will,” Lucas nods. And then, “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Anytime,” Eliott replies, and something tells him he really means it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He turns and makes his way to the entrance to the lower decks but not before meeting Lallemant’s eyes once again, bluer now, as the first bits of sunrise begin to appear over the horizon, matching the water.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Calm for now, but always the possibility of a storm in the making.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott approaches the captain’s quarters, knowing Imane will want to go over their course like she does every morning. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Already the ship has come alive, most of the rest of the crew pulled from their sleep by the signs of first light. The sun has finally risen fully, casting the ocean and the ship in the gentle golden glow of sunrise and Eliott breathes in deep, relishing in it a moment. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks around himself and sees where Yann sits, one knee pulled up, whittling at some wood with the point of a knife. Daphné fiddles with her sword, wiping it again and again, cleaning it of a stain that’s no longer visible but Eliott knows she feels is there all the same. Alexia and Emma are in another corner, tossing something between them and laughing loudly. Idriss is inspecting the sails, likely making sure nothing is out of place. Arthur and Basile are probably below deck, still sleeping. They’d been up for most of the night with Luc– Lallemant – and wouldn’t be up for a few hours. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He imagines Sofiane is already in the captain’s cabin with Imane, heads bent over their ledgers as they take stock of everything they’ve managed to accumulate. Sofiane was always good with numbers, and Eliott knows that Imane trusts him almost as much as she trusts her own brother, even though it had taken him some time to get there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s an atmosphere of waiting that lingers in the air. These weeks between any big stops or spoils often drag, days blending into each other as they leave leagues of ocean behind them. It’s a warm morning, summer just settling into its rhythms, the sea still calm but he knows it won’t last long. After all these years on the ocean, Eliott knows not to trust it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knocks on the door gently and waits for Imane to call him inside.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Who is it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Demaury, Captain.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He steps into the cabin and closes the door behind him, smiling at Imane where she sits behind the large desk towards the back of the room. Eliott was right – Sofiane is sitting next to her, pouring over what appears to be lists of merchandise, marking things down on the page with a pencil. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>Captain</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Imane says, raising an eyebrow as Eliott makes his way over to her, reaching into his pocket for his compass. “Did that finally start to catch on with you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re the one who told me to call you that in front of the rest of the crew,” Eliott replies, flicking the compass open and closed with a kind of infuriating rhythm. It’s grounding, somewhat, to hear the unceasing clicking. “It takes a lot of effort for me to completely unlearn what I’ve called you for most of my life.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He finally listens to me,” Imane says, eyes wide. “Sofiane are you hearing this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ignore her,” Sofiane interjects, “she just likes to be reminded.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that so bad?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all laugh. It’s a freeing feeling, the closeness that comes with being stuck on a ship together for years, even far before they were the ones in charge of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I assume you want to go over the route?” Eliott asks, leaning across the table to grab a map from underneath one of the ledgers, pulling it over to them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Please,” Imane nods, looking down at the marked page. “Show me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott looks for a moment, and then traces out the path with his finger. “We should be about </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>, which means we should cross paths with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span> somewhere along </span>
  <em>
    <span>here</span>
  </em>
  <span>. With the season and what we know about the area, I doubt we’ll run into anyone we need to worry about, but I’ll bring us around a bit wide just in case.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane just nods, used to Eliott’s process and surety by now. He’s an incredibly good navigator, partly due to the hours spent peering over his father’s shoulder at the maps and star charts when he was young. It’s a mixture of study and knowledge and also, apparently, quite a bit of lucky guesswork that means he’s almost never off. It makes him valuable out here and he and Imane both know it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How long?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Two days. Maybe three.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sofiane whistles, tapping his papers together in a neat pile, “I’ll never get used to that you know. You barely glancing at a map and knowing just where we are. It’s a little scary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott laughs and shrugs his shoulders. “What can I say?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You shouldn’t say anything,” Imane replies. “Sofiane just wishes he had a talent like that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Excuse me?” Sofiane replies, looking at her in mock offense. “Would you rather I was not on this ship?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose you have your uses.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott laughs. “Don’t worry Sofiane, we all know you’re her favorite.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane shoves him, but Sofiane looks pleased. Eliott nearly rolls his eyes, part of him desperate to just blurt out what they both need to hear, but he manages to stop himself. He knows they need to get there themselves even if their constant flirting and longing looks are the worst kept secret on the ship. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think they’ll have it?” Eliott asks after a moment, both of them turning to look at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sofiane shrugs. “I’m not sure, but according to everything else, the chances are good.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It will probably only be another small piece. I can’t imagine they would have put anything too important aboard the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Imane says, shuffling some papers aside to reveal a half-completed map drawn out in Eliott’s rough sketches. “But any piece is helpful.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They all look down at the reconstruction where it sits on the desk, mocking them. They’ve been at it for almost a year, set off on a bit of a wild’s goose chase after the pirate they’d inherited this ship from had taken a liking to Imane and gifted her not only his ship when he fell ill, but also the confirmation of a story they’d thought was fiction for years. And another piece of the map, the treasure map.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was a story Eliott, Imane, and Idriss had been hearing for years, but one they’d never really taken seriously. Even when they’d received that first piece of the map all those years ago, they’d assumed it was nothing more than a child’s game, something to occupy their thoughts and keep them from worrying. But then the pirate had spoken of it too, and handed them a few of the pieces he’d managed to collect and suddenly everything felt a lot more real. And they’d been forced to pay the legend more attention.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>According to the story they’d always been told, a Spanish ship carrying vast amounts of gold and other valuable possessions had gotten caught in a storm some 200 years prior and vanished without a trace. Most people had assumed it was lost forever at the bottom of the ocean, but others had claimed it had managed to make it to a small island before washing up ashore there. The few sailors who had made it out of the storm had pulled the treasure onto dry land and stowed it safely there. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s unclear exactly how it happened, but although the memory of the ship had been mostly lost to legend, at some point a map to this tiny and apparently well-hidden island and the treasure it holds had been created and then split into pieces to further conceal it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott’s father had told him in one of his last letters that a strange man had told him that story in a tavern on one of his brief spells ashore. And then he’d thrust an old yellowed piece of parchment into his hand. Eliott had never taken it seriously, assuming the fragment had been created for his amusement. But he’d never gotten a chance to ask. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then that pirate had spoken of it, and the several years he’d spent trying to stitch it all back together and find the missing pieces, or at least clues to where they were hiding. And suddenly it was real. They had found themselves on a treasure hunt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Everything Manon has managed to find out before has been right,” Sofiane chimes in as they look at the uncompleted map.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true,” Eliott says. “But what if Captain Munier is onto us? What if he fed her false information?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane looks at him, unimpressed. “Captain Munier thinking a ragtag band of pirates and a woman are onto him? I don’t think so,” she replies, tracing out the edge of her map with her finger. “He’s telling her because he thinks it increases his chances with her, not because he thinks she’ll use it against him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think Imane’s right,” Sofiane says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott looks at him. “That’s a surprise.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it makes sense. There’s been nothing to alert Munier to their task before now, even though they all know he’s been tasked with the same thing, with completing it for his boss – the merchant overlord Mr. Richelieu. He’d taken to rather violent means in the past few months in his quest to find the rest of the map and had developed a rather nasty reputation among the other sailors, whispers of his arrogance and harshness rampant among the ports.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m sure you’re right,” Eliott says finally, shoulders relaxing. “I’m just concerned about getting into something we can’t get back out of.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Imane says softly. “But we have this under control.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know you do,” Eliott replies. “I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They go over the plan once again, making note of the preparations they’ll have to make for the attack on the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span>. They’d voted on the raid two days prior, so they know the rest of the crew is on board with the plan, ready and waiting for their instructions. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’ll be Lallemant’s first, Eliott thinks absentmindedly to himself. His first taste of the kind of thing that makes pirates </span>
  <em>
    <span>pirates</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eliott,” Imane says just as he’s about to step out of her office and back out on the ship. “For now, we should probably refrain from telling Mr. Lallemant everything about this. Just to be safe.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott looks at her, lifting his brow in question. The possibility for treasure isn’t exactly a secret on the ship, though the exact methods they’ve been using to hunt it down are slightly more. And it’s not like Eliott was planning on spilling every aspect of their search to someone who’s only been aboard a few weeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, but why are you telling me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane shrugs. “No reason. Just wanted to be clear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s clear.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good. Now get us to that ship.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott’s calculations for getting to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span> would have been right had it not been for the storm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It comes upon them quickly the next day – something Eliott hadn’t even noticed was brewing – the sky turning gray first and then black clouds rolling in with a renewed vigor. The first crack of thunder echoes around them, the lightning lighting up the sky and the water turns white with foam.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wind whips the boat from side to side as the rain pelts down at them. The waves are high, cresting and crashing on the deck as Eliott scrambles to help secure the sails.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They haven’t been in a storm this bad in months, and Eliott can tell it’s only the beginning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They should be prepared for it by now, but violent storms have a way of throwing everything off balance, causing everyone to lose their footing and their morale for a while as the cold wet rain pelts down at them turning the deck into a slick trap and their bodies into ice. Everywhere Eliott looks, other members of the crew are running around trying to secure what they can, keep the ship and its contents from being damaged in any real way. Idriss, Yann, Emma and Daphné are fighting with the sails, trying to keep them from tearing. Alexia and Basile are tacking down anything loose. Sofiane and Arthur have disappeared into the belly of the ship and Imane is standing with him at the helm as he tries to keep them from veering too far off course.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Which means everyone is accounted for, but Lallemant. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott finds himself looking around wildly, trying to spot him. The last thing they need is to lose a sailor, especially during something like this. Imane is shouting instructions at him, but he can barely hear her over the wind and he finds he’s distracted anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She’s trying to say something else when Eliott spots him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears a shout from just below the helm and looks down to see Lallemant clutching onto the rail and a piece of rope as the storm has almost succeeded in tossing him overboard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hold on!” Eliott yells, trying to be heard above the deafening wind or the loud crashes as the salt water envelops the deck. He gestures at Imane to take over at the helm and then sprints down the stairs, knowing that blowing a few extra meters off course is better than losing someone to the sea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He runs towards where Lallemant is hanging on, finding a spare bit of rope and wrapping it three times around his wrist as he inches closer to the edge. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He reaches out and manages to grab hold of Lallemant’s hand, a steady anchor to the deck, quickly pulling him to safety.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They both collapse on the deck, and crawl behind a part of the large wooden structure that makes up the bridge, breathing heavily.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Holy shit,” Lallemant murmurs, turning his head to look at Eliott, the immediate danger gone, but somehow a thickness still remains in the air in the space between them. Eliott looks Lallemant over, trying to determine if he’s been hurt in the chaos. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant’s hair is a wild mess, plastered across his forehead, and his clothing is drenched, sticking close to his body. But his eyes, they’re so blue, like the sea on a calm, sunny day and Eliott finds, as their eyes meet, he has a hard time looking away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Lallemant whispers, his breath ghosting over Eliott’s face from where they sit pressed close together, hiding from the storm, “for saving me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant reaches out a hand to brush the wet hair from Eliott’s forehead, his fingertips lingering on his skin. Eliott feels a shiver run through him and it’s unexplainable, the way Eliott feels drawn to him. They’re leaning close now in their warm sanctuary as the storm continues to rage around them, the boat rocking fiercely. But Eliott doesn’t notice and can’t help but lean closer– </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“DEMAURY!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott would recognize that voice anywhere – Imane, no doubt calling him back to his post, the storm far from being over. “I’m sorry,” he says hurriedly as he rises from the floor, “I have to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant just shakes his head. “It’s okay.” And then, “Thank you, again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just stay away from the edge, okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott gives him a small smile before racing off to help the rest of the crew. But even as the storm rages around them, the water choppy and threatening, Eliott can’t help but remember the feeling of Lallemant’s fingertips and the color of his eyes – the blue of a calm and joyous water, Eliott’s favorite of them all.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a few hours for the storm to calm down, the rain turning from a downpour to a gentle sprinkling to nothing at all. Luckily, it seems like there hasn’t been much damage. Idriss is running around the deck as the waves settle, double-checking all the ropes and sails and beams, shouting instructions to Yann, Emma and Alexia who are helping him put everything right.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott is catching his breath, wiping the water from his face and squeezing it out of his shirt. He notices Basile and Daphné emerge from under the ship, dressed in dry clothing, who then go over to help with the clean up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go change Eliott,” Sofiane says as he passes by him. “The last thing we need is for someone to get sick on here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s about to go down below deck and back to his cabin to put on something new when he spots Lallemant lurking on the side of the deck, discomfort clear on his face and confusion at what exactly he’s supposed to be doing. He’s still dripping, his hair still plastered against his face, but the sun, which has finally peeked out from behind the clouds, shine down at him, lighting up his cheeks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lallemant!” Eliott calls out to him, making him whip his head around. “You going to change?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shifts from one foot to another and shrugs. “Haven’t got anything else,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Oh, Eliott thinks, biting his lip. He hadn’t even thought of that, but it makes sense. Lallemant had come aboard the ship without anything more to his name than what he carried on his back. Eliott had almost forgotten what that was like, owning nothing, having no stake in anything other than himself, Imane or Idriss. Being left with nearly nothing at all. But Eliott can do something about that now. Something he always hoped would happen to him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come with me,” he shouts over his shoulder as he descends into the ship. He doesn’t check, but he knows Lallemant is following.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he reaches the entrance to his tiny cabin he turns and finds Lallemant blinking at him, his eyes adjusting to the dark hallway. Eliott smiles at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I always wondered where you slept,” Lallemant says. Eliott raises an eyebrow and bites away a smile as Lallemant seems to register what it is he’s said. “Wait, fuck– I just meant that you weren’t out in the open space with the rest of us is all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You noticed that?” Eliott teases.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant shoves him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott opens the door to his cabin and steps inside, going over to a trunk in the corner and pulling out a spare shirt and pants that he tosses at Lallemant. Lallemant catches the clothes and then looks around the small room, barely enough space to fit the cot and the chest. A small, circular window, the only thing on the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There you go,” Eliott says gesturing at the clothes. “They may be a bit big on you given the–” he gestures at Lallemant’s height, “but they should work for now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant narrows his eyes in response. “Fuck off.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“A bit sensitive about that are we?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” he says petulantly. And then, “I’m sure they’ll be just fine.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They stand for a moment, just looking at each other and Eliott feels the way he’s drawn to his gaze once again – the vibrant blue looking back at him. He holds Eliott’s clothes close and Eliott feels the way his something twists in his gut at the thought of Lallemant wearing his clothes, but he quickly brushes it away. He likes Lallemant, he does, but he barely knows him, has spent only a few moments alone with him. Not that you’re really ever </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> on a ship, and not that he’s spending a lot of time thinking about being </span>
  <em>
    <span>alone</span>
  </em>
  <span> with Lallemant, it’s just–– </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lallemant cuts off his rambling thoughts. “I’m going to go change then,” he says, gesturing over his shoulder. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. “Yeah sure,” he says. And then, wanting to see the way he knows Lallemant will fight back a smile, “No thank you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Lallemant muses, like he’s thinking it over. “Not after you insulted my height.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott smirks. “If that’s how it’s going to be Lallemant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lucas,” Lallemant blurts out as he takes another step out of the room. “Just call me Lucas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lucas,” Eliott says slowly, trying out the name in his mouth. “Okay. As long as you just call me Eliott.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eliott,” Lallemant, or Lucas now Eliott supposes, says quietly, a small smile finally fighting its way to the surface. “Okay. Then I’ll see you later, Eliott.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott watches him turn and head back to his quarters, and lets out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding. He knows Imane doesn’t trust him yet, knows she needs more before she’s ready to take him in like the rest of the crew. But for Eliott, there’s something there that’s telling him Lucas is something good.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>That night, Polaris is bright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The storm has mostly cleared off, leaving as quickly as it had come and leaving behind clear, calm waters that will carry them to the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span>. Eliott has consulted his charts and factored in what he knows about protocol on these merchant ships and where the storm might have blown them and recalibrates, finding a new area to intersect them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He feels good, and confident, that they’ll be able to follow through tomorrow. It’s much needed – Eliott can feel it in the way the crew has grown restless. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls out his compass and checks their direction again, adjusting the wheel slightly as the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> glides through the water. He imagines their paths with cross with the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span> by midmorning. Sooner, if the wind stays on their side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott notes the stars and their positions along the horizon. Some are bright, like they’re demanding attention, and others blink like they’re calling to him. He breathes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s still stuck in his thoughts when he hears a small noise come from the stairs. He sighs, his shoulders relaxing, and turns to find Idriss looking at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You alright?” Idriss asks as he comes fully up the stairs, nudging Eliott’s shoulder. “It was an eventful day.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. “It was.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve been sleeping okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott bites his cheek and turns his head, giving Idriss an unimpressed look. “Idriss…” he warns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, okay,” Idriss says, taking a step back, hands raised. “I’m not trying to monitor you. It’s just, you’ve been up really early these past few mornings and I don’t know, you said we should check in when that happens, so I’m just...checking in.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott drops his head. He did say that. It’s important, given some of the things that have happened in the past. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right,” Eliott replies and then he closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, taking stock of his heart and his thoughts, searching for any sign that they might be rushing too fast or keeping him on edge. He doesn’t find it. Everything feels level. If anything he’s excited for tomorrow, but it’s at the prospect of the raid, of finding another piece of the map, nothing out of the ordinary. He blinks his eyes open and turns back to Idriss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m fine, really,” he says, smiling at him. “But thank you. And you’re right, I have been waking up early, but it’s not because of that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The nightmare again?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. “Yeah. It always seems to come when I have something to lose.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott crouches low behind the wooden banister, legs bent, eyes peering over the edge, waiting. He watches as they get closer, as the ship ahead of them gets larger and larger as the space between them shrinks. They’ll be noticed any minute.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott’s skin prickles at the thought, something exhilarating rushing through him as the sun beats down on him from overhead. This part is always exciting – the calm before the storm – before they’ve been spotted, the part before the game is on. Eliott has always liked being one step ahead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The rest of the crew is silent behind him, manning their respective stations. Lucas, Eliott notices, is hanging back, watching as the rest of the machine slowly kicks into place. Eliott nudges the wheel slightly to keep them on course and looks to where Imane stands, her arms crossed over her chest as she watches their approach. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>For a moment Eliott can only hear the waves and the reverberation of his own heartbeat in his head. It’s quiet, and calming in a way. The constants he’s come to know in his body and the sea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The moment is broken by a shout – long and loud across the water. The voice is alarmed in a way that Eliott knows only their rippling black sail, the one Idriss had hoisted only minutes ago, can provoke. He glances up at it, large and daunting up on their mast and smiles. It’s usually enough. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>If the sailors know the rules of the water, which Eliott can only assume they do, they must know that the black flag is a good sign, a symbol of mercy that those who surrender without a fight would be allowed to live. They should be more worried to see a red flag, the symbol of </span>
  <em>
    <span>no quarter given</span>
  </em>
  <span>, no mercy, no life spared. But the black flag is only as good as a pirate’s word and Eliott has long heard the fear that their approach can bring.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re close enough now that the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span> can’t outrun them. It’s a wonder to Eliott how close they can often get. But the captains of these ships often feel invincible, all the way until they’ve caught them. Eliott can see the bustle on the deck of the other ship as the sailors run around, no doubt securing what their captain tells them too, knowing they’re about to be boarded. But really, it won’t matter. It never does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott sees Imane adjust the sword on her hip and then nod to Idriss who nods back with the kind of knowing that comes from a well-rehearsed scene. They’ve done this so many times by now they all know their role. Idriss grabs hold of one of the ropes and pulls himself up so he’s standing on the railing, the other ship close enough now they’ll likely catch Idriss’ voice. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Not that the merchant ship doesn’t know their conditions, know what the flag means. At this point they’ve been well-sewn into the heads of every sailor in the Caribbean. But they always like to remind them. Idriss leans back, his muscles bulging as he holds onto the rope and winks at Eliott before bringing his other hand to the side of his mouth to amplify his voice. Idriss has always had a talent for cutting through wind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Prepare to be boarded,” Idriss announces, their ship rapidly approaching the other. “If you surrender now, no harm will come to your ship or any of the crew. Choose to fight, and we can no longer make that guarantee.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott fidgets with the grip of his sword, considering, before pulling out his pistol and holding it tightly in his hand. He probably won’t even need to use it, but he always feels safer with a little protection. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Boarding party, make your preparations!” Imane calls, drawing her sword as she walks towards the side of the ship. She looks strong and menacing standing there, weapon clutched in hand, a calm, cool expression lingering on her face. But Eliott knows her better than that. He sees the way her other hand clutches at her belt, how her jaw tightens a bit as they move closer.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sofiane moves close to her, touching her elbow lightly and whispering something to her. She nods, once, and moves over to say something to Yann that Eliott misses over the sounds of rushing water and the shouts from the crew in the boat across from them. But it must have been a direction of some sort because the first half of the boarding party spreads out along the side of the ship, preparing to move across. Emma drops the anchor and levels them up to the side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott lingers behind, part of the second wave, and waits for Arthur to come take over at the helm. He signs to him that it’s all clear, and leaves the deck behind to go and join the others who are waiting for their turn to board. He’s never been particularly gifted at fighting, but to keep up his reputation Imane always includes him in their attacks. It makes sense that way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This is always the strangest part, waiting for the engagement. Both crews know it’s coming, everyone paused in anticipation for whatever events are about to transpire, still ignorant of whatever bloodshed may occur. Eliott hopes it’s none. He never can quite stomach it. It’s eerily quiet for a moment, the water the only sound as the crews wait, eyeing each other as their ship finally meets along their side.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott finds Lucas, crouched and waiting, ready to move as soon as he’s told. He knows Yann walked him through the general strategy, and that when in doubt, you fall back until the captain gives orders, but still Eliott looks to see if he can find even a hint of nervousness. But Lucas doesn’t look nervous. In fact, he looks rather excited.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ready?” Eliott asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas turns to him and smiles. “What do you think?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Imane shouts, and it begins.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s riotous commotion as the crew of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> begins to board the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span>, pirates shouting orders to the crew and beginning to round them up. Most of them seem to be listening, cowering slightly at the gruff exterior Eliott’s crewmates give them. But Eliott knows it’s all an act. They can’t appear too nice or no other ship will ever let them board calmly again. It’s so much easier to just take from people who will let you.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s like everyone puts on a different face though. They’re all quieter, stronger, meaner. It’s the kind of well-worn attitude that comes with months on the sea, clinging to the spoils of other people’s ships for sustenance. The kind of existence that rests on excitement and danger, yes, but also a reliance on other people to be there to take from. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In some ways it should make Eliott’s stomach turn, the way they seemingly work against the expectations of a good society, how they manipulate the frailty and vulnerability of the open water. But it doesn’t, not the way they do it. And he knows the rules are only there to keep the less powerful down. Those with money and power take advantage anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches as Basile and Emma push crew members into a section of the deck, pressing them back with the tips of their swords. They wear matching cold expressions, a far cry from the dopey grins that normally grace their faces. But it’s circumstance, and they’ve all had to learn how to adapt.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Alexia herds a few other crew members over toward the group and Yann joins the others encircling them, his pistol drawn and trained for any sudden movement. Lucas and Daphné hang back – Daphné, because she’s waiting for her role and Lucas because he hasn’t figured his own out yet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane glances over them all. “Idriss, Alexia, go make sure that’s everyone.” They nod and go off into the ship to search for stragglers. There’s always one or two. It’s better to find them now, rather than wait for them to try and make some ill-fated attempt to fight them off.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Now,” Imane says, turning to address the captured crew. “Where’s your captain?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s silence from the group and Eliott looks them over. He picks him out almost immediately, the cut of his clothes nicer than the rest, the set of his jaw more indignant. And yet, he waits in the quiet, not ready to offer himself up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The silence persists and Imane halfs turns to Sofiane as if to suggest they root him out when there’s a scoff from one of the sailors. Eliott stiffens, and Imane turns back to them, jaw clenched like she expects what’s coming.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“</span>
  <em>
    <span>You’re</span>
  </em>
  <span> the great pirate captain?” a man, the one Eliott suspects is the captain, asks disbelievingly. “A </span>
  <em>
    <span>woman</span>
  </em>
  <span>? Men,” he says, laughing as he takes a step, “we could have taken her...”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It happens like a flash of lightning. One moment the man is a step closer to his captors, wearing a mocking expression and the next he’s rigid with fear, the end of Imane’s blade pressed against his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Take another step,” Imane says slowly, “and see what happens.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The man tries to take a breath but Eliott can hear the way it goes ragged, the way he trembles as he tries to avoid the sharpness under his chin. It’s fear, a clear, pure kind, that wracks him. The best tool they can use.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’ve heard the stories, have you not?” Imane continues darkly, her words strung out as hard as stone. “Do you not think me capable? I can show you if that’s what you wish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane holds the man’s gaze. He stands rigid for a moment, then two before his gaze drops towards the deck and Imane lowers her sword. The man swallows thickly and steps back, silent once again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s set off a ripple of nervousness though among the crew that Eliott can feel, potent and palpable. Imane turns back, eyes searching for Daphné until she finds her, something passing between them in unspoken conversation.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Daphné steps forward. “It really is better if you don’t fight,” she says, her words like molasses, falling almost sickly sweet through the air. It’s a sharp contrast to the way the rest of the crew acts during these attacks but they all know it’s for a reason. “Stay calm, and nothing bad will happen to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott notices the change in the crew instantly. They’re suddenly quiet, calm almost, a bit entranced. Their shoulders slacken and their faces relax. Eliott turns his face to hide his smirk.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Like a charm,” Eliott whispers to her. She only shakes her head slightly, but Eliott sees the hint of a smile. Imane nods at Daphné and turns back to the crew. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So you’re the Captain then,” she says to the man, gesturing at Sofiane to take a hold of him. “Good. You can tell him what you’re carrying on here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then she turns back to the rest of the crew to give out instructions. “Daphné, Basile and Emma stay here with me and guard the crew. Yann and Lucas, go find Idriss and Alexia and begin gathering everything.” She pauses, waits for the crew to take over their positions. Lucas throws Eliott a quick glance before following Yann down below deck. Imane turns back to him. “Eliott,” she says quietly, “Captain’s quarters. You know what to do.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott does, in fact. Just like several other of these occasions. Normally, Eliott would be one to help carry goods up and over, but sometimes, like now, he slips away. So he goes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he reaches the cabin, he notices first that it’s been locked. He could, he supposes, go back and have Sofiane ask the captain nicely for his keys, but that would take far too much time and frankly, it’s not like it’s going to be a secret he was in here. So instead he reaches down, picks up some sort of heavy metal object he’s found on deck and throws it through the window. Then he cleans up the glass a bit, reaches in, unlocking the door, and steps inside. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s much quieter, once he’s inside the cabin. Peaceful almost, with the gentle waves rocking the boat. It’s much prettier in here too, Mr. Richelieu keeping up his ships in the latest style if only to prove his own wealth. It looks like a standard sort of office, a large desk stacked with ledgers and papers, an expensive coat in a bright shade of blue thrown over the seat. But it’s not what Eliott’s come in here for. At least, not yet. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Instead he walks over to stand behind the desk, leaning down to pull out the second drawer on the left, just as Manon had told them, just as a drunk Captain Munier had spilled to her. And there, at the bottom right corner of the drawer, a small insignia of a wave. Eliott pushes on it and the bottom of the drawer springs up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And there, inside, resting on a luxurious layer of red velvet – a small, weathered piece of parchment, with faded ink written across it. Eliott feels a smile spread across his face. In a hurry he pulls out the paper and pencils he’s brought with him, sitting down at the desk as he gingerly extracts the old map piece. And then he gets to work, copying the fragment as best he can as fast as he can, doing his best not to mess with any details or mess up the clues in any way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He works quickly, shading in the land masses and the ocean, tracing the outer edge where it’s been torn. He’s not exactly sure how much time has passed when he finishes, but he knows his time must almost be up. One of the best rules a pirate can follow is to never linger longer than necessary. Every minute spent on another’s ship, especially someone unfriendly to you, is a chance for things to go wrong.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks down at his finished sketch with a smile, comparing it to the original and finding that he’s pleasantly surprised with the result. But then again, Imane trusted him with this, and for that he had to be good, no matter how much she likes him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He replaces the fragment back where he found it and moves everything back into place to hopefully make it look as though it’s been looked over and missed in his haste. And then the fun part – he reaches for a pile of documents on the desk and roughly throws them about, making a mess as though he’s been searching through them. That, at least, will give them quite a bit to sort through and hopefully get them off their trail. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then he looks around, noticing what looks to be a gold paperweight on one of the desk’s corners. He picks it up, tossing it gently in his hand and noting its weight before he places it into his pocket. Then he grabs the beautiful blue coat, and a few navigational charts he finds on another table – something he’ll pour over later when he’s back on his own ship – and walks out the door.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The crew is still rounded up on the deck and the crew of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> seems to be making quick work of the things they’re taking. Imane looks up as he walks out and meets his eye, raising her brow in question. He knows what she’s asking. He gives her a small nod in return, </span>
  <em>
    <span>I have it</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and she smiles, turning back around.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Perhaps it’s this exchange that takes Eliott’s guard down, or makes him less aware of his surroundings than he usually is. Or maybe, it’s the high of finding another missing piece to the puzzle they’ve been fighting to solve so easily. Whatever it is, he doesn’t see the other man coming until he’s nearly too late. In one instant he’s walking out onto the deck and in the next he’s pressed up against the door he’s just left from, a blade flashing past his face and ending up pressed in the hollow of his throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott starts to panic as he looks up at the man who has him pinned. He’s young, probably around Eliott’s age, and wanting to make his mark so he can rise in the ranks. Eliott gets it. He stares at Eliott, a twisted smile on his face and Eliott can smell the alcohol on his breath as he leans in as close as his sword can let him, making sure that Eliott can feel the metal on his skin.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And where do you think you’re going with that?” the man says slowly, gesturing toward the coat in his hand. “That belongs to the captain of this ship. It doesn’t belong in the hands of some lowlife pirate.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott wants to swallow, to speak, but he’s scared that any movement in his throat will press against the blade too much. He tries to reach for his own sword, or even his pistol, but they’re tucked too far into his clothes. He’d been sloppy, assuming that everyone had been rounded up, and unprepared for an attack like this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up with wild eyes, hoping that someone further out on the deck can see him, but the man has backed him into the corner under a set of stairs and he’s out of eyesight for most everyone else on deck. For a moment he thinks about yelling, but he knows if he does he’ll be dead before the words even leave his throat. His best bet is to move quickly and try and knock the man back, catch him off balance and then move away. He turns his eyes back to meet the man’s, clenching his jaw and setting a determined gaze.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You think I won’t do it?” the man whispers, taking a step closer and pressing the tip of his sword even harder into Eliott’s skin. “You think I won’t just because your friends are over there? Think again. Maybe they’ll kill me, but at least I’ll have gotten one of you disgusting bastards––”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s cut off by the arrival of a different blade. One that appears as if from nowhere, and knocks the man’s away from Eliott’s throat like it’s nothing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” a voice says behind him, and Eliott nearly cries with relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas appears next to him, stepping neatly between Eliott and the man as the man moves his sword through the air, Lucas neatly parrying every strike. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You won’t win,” Lucas says calmly. “So I suggest you give up now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s a bit surreal watching it all happen. The man is young and athletic and it’s clear he’s been trained and Eliott would have fared very poorly indeed in a fight. And yet Lucas matches every movement, every step with ease, looking barely shaken at all at the sharp metal that keeps flying near him. He backs the man out onto the deck until they’re in neat view of everyone else and Eliott is in awe of the whole thing. It plays like a cleverly choreographed ballet – each step intentional, yet effortless and Eliott is entranced. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re far enough out now that the fight attracts the other crew member’s attention, Sofiane and Emma hurrying over to meet the man from behind, drawing their own swords. It’s when the man feels the tip of another sword pressing into his back that he seems to lose his fight and stands still, glaring at Lucas who still has his sword raised at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Drop. Your. Sword.” Lucas says firmly as the man scowls. But he listens, dropping the weapon and Emma and Sofiane quickly take him by the arms and haul him neatly over to where the rest of the crew are being held. They seem to talk before they pull him below deck, no doubt to lock him in one of the rooms until after they’ve left.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I thought you said you found everyone,” Lucas is shouting at Idriss as he sheathes his sword. Idriss says something back that Eliott can’t hear from where he’s still leaning against the wall but then Lucas is shouting back, “Well apparently not!” and then he turns and quickly comes back to where Eliott is leaning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you okay?” Lucas asks quickly when he finally reaches him, his fingers coming up to inspect Eliott’s throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Eliott nods, feeling almost giddy. In all likelihood he would have been able to get out of that fine. He’s gotten out of things much worse. But Lucas coming to his rescue like that really was something. He beams at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t know you could fight like that,” he exclaims hitting Lucas on the shoulder, making him frown and step back from where he’d been examining Eliott’s throat.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What– yeah, I mean I thought Manon mentioned,” he says slowly before he furrows his face in concentration. “Wait no, important things first. Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. “Yes, yes, I’m fine. Thanks to you,” he smiles and notes the way Lucas smiles back in relief. “Thank you, really.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome.” Lucas replies. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But seriously, Manon mentioned that you were good with a sword, but I’ve never seen anything like that before. I mean, that was incredible!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas smiles shyly. “I’ve just practiced,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just practiced?” Eliott exclaims as they walk back towards the rest of the crew, preparing for their departure. “Shit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they reach Imane, she looks at him worriedly, but he quickly assures her nothing’s wrong. They’re used to these kind of incidents and she’s less concerned that she was the first time something like this happened. But Eliott knows it worries her all the same and he watches as her eyes soften toward Lucas. He may not know it, but that little act has gone a long way in putting him into Imane’s trust.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re preparing to leave,” Imane tells him quietly, as Yann and Alexia move the last of the goods, Sofiane grabbing the items in Eliott's hands to add to the pile. “So get yourselves together.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s all?” Lucas asks Eliott as Yann makes quick work raising the anchor and he resumes his post at the wheel. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’ve disabled a part of the ship that will take them a few hours to repair but that’s really all. Idriss, Emma, Arthur and Daphné all have their pistols trained on them as they leave, most of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso's</span>
  </em>
  <span> weapons taken safely aboard the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> or shoved into another room below deck. They’ve been told not to move before the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose </span>
  </em>
  <span>is out of firing range and so far they seem to be complying. It helps to have their best marksmen training their guns on them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You are just going to leave them like that?” Lucas asks again, looking mildly confused.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott laughs. “What did you expect us to do? Burn the boat with everyone inside?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas shrugs from where he stands beside Eliott, rather protectively. Imane, who’s taken up her post beside him, surveying the rest of the deck and crew, chuckles.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t believe everything you hear about pirates, Mr. Lallemant. I think you’d find most of it is orchestrated cover stories to make our lives easier,” she says quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s just not what I was expecting,” Lucas admits.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We don’t like to spill blood if it’s unnecessary,” Eliott says. “And most of the time it’s unnecessary.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why is that?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott looks over at Imane and finds her smiling to herself. “Because most of the time we target merchant ships,” she explains. “And you’ll find most men aren’t willing to die over wealth that doesn’t belong to them.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I see.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’ll also find most men don’t want to admit they went down without a fight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott can see when Lucas catches on, his face lighting up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s in everyone’s best interest to tell colorful stories,” Imane says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Amazing,” Lucas replies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott turns back to the wheel, the wind catching favorably in their sails as they speed away from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span>. The sun has knocked just beyond its highest point while they were on the other ship, making for a warm afternoon. Eliott can hear the shouts from Idriss when they finally pull out of range and the crew seems to let out a collective sigh of relief.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott turns to Lucas and grins at him, reveling in their success, their eyes meeting as Lucas grins back. Until, suddenly, Lucas’ face falls.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fuck, Eliott,” he says quickly, reaching up and smoothing a thumb across Eliott’s cheek. Eliott nearly jumps back at the touch, his skin sparking under Lucas’ thumb. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas pulls his hand back and Eliott sees the red on his thumb. “You’re bleeding,” he says softly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane looks up at them as Eliott reaches up and probes his cheek with his fingers, feeling how they come away wet, a cut he hadn’t even noticed in the commotion. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Must have been from that asshole,” he says, wiping away the blood, as Imane looks at him, concerned. “Don’t worry, I don’t think it’s anything more than a scratch.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Still,” Lucas says quickly. “Let me look at it. Make sure it’s nothing bad.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott looks at him confused, noting that Imane does the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know how to do this stuff?” Imane asks him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shrugs. “Nothing major. Just cleaning little things up, stitches. Came in handy.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott looks at him, wanting him to elaborate, but he doesn’t. Imane doesn’t seem to care.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well that will prove to be useful,” she says. “Didn’t think to mention it before?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Didn’t really think about it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane shrugs. “Well, I’ll get Arthur to man the wheel,” she says, calling out to Idriss who approaches him and motions for him to come up to the helm. “Demaury, you go with Lallemant and get yourself cleaned up.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. Normally Alexia or Imane herself had been their go-to for things like that. But he’s not complaining.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He follows Lucas down to the deck where he tears a bit of cloth from the torn part of his shirt – or really, Eliott remembers, </span>
  <em>
    <span>his</span>
  </em>
  <span> shirt – and takes a bit of rum from where there’s a bottle stashed in a corner. He pours some out onto the cloth and then reaches up, dabbing it at Eliott’s face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott winces, pulling back as Lucas reaches up his other hand, cupping Eliott’s jaw and turning his face towards him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Lucas apologizes, wiping at his face, his other hand rough and warm against Eliott’s cheek. “It stings a bit.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s alright,” Eliott replies, clenching his jaw a little as Lucas wipes the blood away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just want to get it clean so I can see it,” Lucas says softly, stepping closer to Eliott as he inspects his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott inhales, Lucas’ warmth and the smell of the wood on his hands filling Eliott’s nose. He forgets to exhale for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay, it looks shallow,” Lucas says finally, stepping back. Eliott nearly falls over. “Should heal okay on its own.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott looks at him as he steps back, hopping up on a crate and propping up one leg, letting the other one swing. There’s something fierce in his gaze as he looks back at Eliott, wiping his blood from his hands and letting the rag fall beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What would I do without you?” Eliott says lightly, teasing. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He watches the color flood Lucas’ face. It fills his chest with something else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Apparently get skewered by merchant assholes,” Lucas replies, just as teasingly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott sighs.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not much of a fighter,” he admits, turning sheepishly toward Lucas who’s sitting with his leg pulled up, his chin resting on top of it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas smirks, pressing the corner of his smile into his knee as he turns his head. “Can’t say I’m surprised,” he replies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eliott asks, playing affronted as he puffs out his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas chews at his cheek, his blue eyes deep and clear today, enchanting in all the best ways. Something shifts in Eliott’s sternum. He breathes it away.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just that you’re unfailingly kind,” Lucas says, his voice honest, his eyes soft. Eliott feels his face burn. “And,” Lucas continues after a moment, his expression rearranging into something harder, a smirk suddenly painted onto his lips, “now I’ve seen you try to hold a sword.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott laughs, but notices the shift. The brief moment of vulnerability only to be replaced by teasing and humor. It’s a wall, the kind of self-preservation that Eliott recognizes well. It’s the kind of veil he’s worn over himself many times, the kind he still does. But it does no one favors to call it out. Instead, Eliott plays along.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll admit I’m not the best,” Eliott laughs, the salty wind ruffling his hair. He takes a step closer to Lucas and leans on the banister, looking down at the calm water below. He thinks he hears Lucas inhale, but it could have been the wind. When he looks up again, Lucas has fixed him with an exaggerated offended glare.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll have you know you have the worst grip I’ve ever seen!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott smirks, feeling appropriately admonished. He likes having someone around who will push him, call him out for his faults, without making them sound as such. “The worst?” he asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“The worst,” Lucas confirms, nodding, “and I’ve spent a fair amount of time around clumsy drunks.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then you must teach me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott catches the way Lucas’ eyes widen slightly, how a lovely pink floods his cheeks. But he nods.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“If I must.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott traces a finger along the wood pattern on the banister and leans in, rising up so his lips brush against the cusp of Lucas’ ear. “Well you clearly are – and don’t tell Idriss I said this – the most skilled swordsman on this ship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leans back and revels in the way Lucas is breathing a little harder. But he composes himself quickly, never one to live without his mask for long.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is that so?” he asks, an eyebrow raised. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s what I think,” Eliott replies, turning to rest against the railing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And your word means so much in the world of swordsmanship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott bits back a smile, feigning indignation. “That’s it. I’m never complimenting you again.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas stares at him, eyes wild and bright. “We’ll see about that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott swallows. “But regardless, I’d really like to stop being the embarrassment of this ship, even if I never see any action so…” He fixes Lucas with what he hopes is his most convincing set of pleading eyes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas looks at him for a moment, but then he sighs, shoulders collapsing in a way that Eliott knows he’s won. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t make me change my mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I won’t,” Eliott says quickly, bouncing a little where he stands. “Thank you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t thank me yet,” Lucas replies, but he smiles at Eliott, genuine, warm. “Let’s see if I can make you better first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods, smiling. It’s a start.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What were you doing in there anyway?” Lucas asks. “The captain’s quarters I mean.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott shrugs, knowing he can’t reveal the true reason yet, that Imane had asked him not to. “Just looking for valuables.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“They have navigational charts in there,” he explains, which is partly true, and something that’s incredibly useful for him. “And,” he says, pulling out the paperweight from his pocket, “things like this.” He stares at it, rolling it around in his palm and noting the seal, evident on its surface. “I forgot I had this,” he says slowly, looking up, “I should give this to Sofiane––”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That was one of Mr. Richelieu’s ships?” Lucas interrupts him, his voice sounding thinner than normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. “Yes. Why?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Nothing, it’s just some of the things I’ve heard.” Lucas shrugs. “That he can be quite, uh, ruthless.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true,” Eliott agrees. “But I wouldn’t worry about him. We won’t likely cross paths. He doesn’t spend much time on the ocean himself.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But do we often target his ships?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott thinks to himself. “It happens, here and there. Especially since so many of the ships are his, but I wouldn’t worry too much about it,” he replies, knowing full well they’ll have to go after Captain Munier’s ship in a few weeks time. But he doesn’t need to worry Lucas, not yet, especially when he’s finally settling into the rhythm of life aboard the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas breathes out, nods, lets his shoulders relax a bit. “Okay,” he says after a moment. And then he turns to Eliott with a wicked grin. “So when’s your first lesson?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Whenever you want it to be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ll let you know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott smiles at Lucas, knowing this moment is fleeting, knowing that soon Imane will call him back to his post, back to his place in the cog of the machine. But for now he relishes in the moment of lightness, in the promise of tomorrow, his heart feeling a little fuller than normal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The wind picks up again, filling her sails, and the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> continues on into things they can’t yet foresee.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>TW:<br/>violent threats: Eliott is attacked and threatened with death by a sailor on a ship they're attacking. Lucas steps in and saves him, fighting the man off with his sword.<br/>blood: when they get back on the ship, Lucas notices Eliott's been cut on his cheek by that man's sword and helps him clean the cut up</p>
<p>thank you so much for reading! kudos and comments are much appreciated and I always love to chat over on my tumblr <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a> </p>
<p>y'all are the best! thank you for the support &lt;3</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Eurus</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello everyone! so sorry for the delay on this chapter, but it's here now! </p>
<p>gonna take a moment here to draw everyone's attention to the rating of this fic and warn for some mature content (look for the "***"). Other than really brief mentions of death, this one should be okay to go, but please let me know if there's something you want me to warn for in the future that I've missed. </p>
<p>happy reading! :)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Lucas </em>
</p>
<p>Lucas watches from across the deck as Eliott talks animatedly with Idriss about something he can’t make out over the wind.</p>
<p>He doesn’t mean to find him, doesn’t mean for his eyes to seek him out, but there’s just something about him that pulls Lucas’ attention. Has, since he saw him that first time in Manon’s tavern. He hasn’t been able to explain it.</p>
<p>It’s not even that he’s really watching Eliott. More that he was leaning against one of the railings, neglecting his duties and had let his mind wander. And when he’d come back to himself, he’d been looking at Eliott. It happens more often than it really should.</p>
<p>The thing about Eliott is that he’s so good at making people feel at home, listened to, acknowledged. The way he looks at you, the way he smiles – it has a way of making you feel special, it had made Lucas feel special. </p>
<p>Which is why, at first, he was confused. It’s been nearly a week since the incident on that merchant ship, and Eliott has hardly talked to him. Or no, that’s not exactly true. When they’re near each other, or their paths happen to cross, Eliott is always perfectly friendly and smiling. But he hasn’t been seeking Lucas out. And he hasn’t followed up on Lucas teaching him how to use a sword either. It’s not bad, it’s just Lucas had thought that they were on their way to being friends, or–</p>
<p>Well whatever he’d thought, Eliott had clearly not agreed. Which is fine, totally his choice. Lucas knows his responsibilities on the ship are much bigger than Lucas’ own. He’s probably busy….or doesn’t want to spend too much time with a regular member of the crew as an officer and it’s fine, even if Lucas now spends far too much time staring across the deck hoping to catch a glimpse of that smile. Lucas will just have to bring up the lessons at some point. He was serious, but maybe Eliott wasn’t. Whatever way, if Lucas asks him then he’ll at least know, and he can stop thinking about this so much. </p>
<p>It’s fine. He’s adjusting. He doesn’t need Eliott’s help with that.</p>
<p>“Are you paying attention?” Yann’s voice breaks through the turmoil in Lucas’ head and makes him jump just a bit.</p>
<p>He looks down to where Yann is adjusting one of the ropes, tying an intricate knot that’s connected to some thing that Lucas has already forgotten. He smiles guiltily at him – Yann is doing it yes, but Lucas is supposed to be learning how to do it so he can finally start carrying his own weight on board. He is decidedly <em> not </em> supposed to be staring at Eliott.</p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry, yes,” he says quickly, breaking his gaze away from Eliott and Idriss and crouching down next to Yann. “Show me again?”</p>
<p>Yann narrows his eyes at him slightly, and then sets about untying the rope only to tie it again. He crosses one piece over the top of another, twists it, and threads the end through the loop, pulling it tight.</p>
<p>“You want to make it secure like this,” he says, looking up at Lucas, who nods at him. </p>
<p>He watches as Yann sets to work on the next knot, moving along the series of ropes with precision but he can’t help that his eyes glance up again, for just a moment, and catch how the sun glints off the ends of Eliott’s hair. </p>
<p>“Okay, are you actually going to help me or are you just going to keep staring at Demaury?”</p>
<p>Lucas jumps, feeling heat flood his cheeks.</p>
<p>“What are you talking about?”</p>
<p>Yann smiles and shakes his head. “Nothing,” he says. He pauses, looking at Lucas with a kind of knowing glance. It’s amazing how quickly it feels like Yann has tuned into him, knows just what he’s thinking, even though they’ve only been friends a short time, even counting those few weeks in New Providence. “It’s just that Demaury talks to you more than he’s ever talked to a new member of the ship.”</p>
<p>“Does he?” Lucas asks. And here Lucas had been thinking Eliott was avoiding him. But maybe it’s just how he is.</p>
<p>“Well he’s just a bit quiet, reserved,” Yann says. “Perfectly nice, but tends to keep to himself a bit. Been known to kind of disappear into his cabin sometimes for a while.”</p>
<p>Lucas frowns. That doesn’t sound like Eliott. Or at least not the Eliott he’s been around. He’s always been so kind and open with him, has always been a friendly face, a gentle hand. “What do you mean?”</p>
<p>“Nothing, really. Or nothing bad,” Yann explains. “Just that the Captain, her brother and Demaury tend to keep to themselves. Alaoui too, manages to be closer than the rest of us, but I think that’s because he met them before they got this ship.” He pauses, looking at Lucas, but then he smirks. “All I’m saying is I’ve seen you two talking, and I saw the way you stood up for him on that boat, so I’m just wondering how you managed to charm him that fast.” He raises an eyebrow as Lucas feels himself blush. “From what I remember, you’re not all that charming.”</p>
<p>“Excuse you,” Lucas huffs, “I’m plenty charming when I want to be. Remember that shopkeeper?”</p>
<p>Yann lets out a loud laugh and Lucas sees Eliott look up.</p>
<p>“I think that was much more that she was drunk nearly all day long, but whatever you want to tell yourself,” he says.</p>
<p>Lucas rolls his eyes. “Whatever.” He shrugs. “El– Demaury is just nice to me is all. Wants me to teach him how to swordfight.”</p>
<p>“I see,” Yann says, raising an eyebrow. “Have you told him how you learned?”</p>
<p>“No,” Lucas says softly, turning his head to watch the water rushing by the ship. </p>
<p>“Are you going to?”</p>
<p>“I don’t know.”</p>
<p>He can’t. It definitely wouldn’t go over well. Unless he lies. And that’s not something he wants to commit to yet. It’s so much easier to just avoid the questions, avoid answering, as he’s done for almost every part of him. Even Yann doesn’t know the full story, only pieces. He unconsciously reaches up to press his fingers against his mother’s compass tucked into his shirt. For now, at least, he needs to remain something like a mystery.</p>
<p>Yann takes a breath and Lucas can tell he’s trying to catch his eye but he pointedly looks away. “Lucas, maybe you should–”</p>
<p>But Lucas is saved by the arrival of Arthur and Emma, climbing over the piles of rope and flinging themselves down on the deck. He lets out a sigh of relief. He knows Yann doesn’t understand why he refuses to talk about himself, but it’s something he’s been doing now for years. He’s used to it. He’d rather been seen just as he is.</p>
<p>“What are you guys talking about?” Emma asks, collapsing against the side of the ship near Lucas’ legs.</p>
<p>“Please let it be anything but how much you love Daphné,” Arthur sighs, dropping next to Yann. </p>
<p>“Been hanging out with Basile again have we?” Yann asks, turning to face Arthur and winking. </p>
<p>“God yeah,” Emma replies. “We were helping him out in the galley, but after a few hours hearing about just how golden her hair is, I want to scream.”</p>
<p>Lucas laughs. He’s been privy to quite a few similar conversations in the past few weeks and although he’d never admit it, he finds it rather sweet just how much he cares for her. “So tell me, are they actually together?” Lucas asks. He’s never been able to get a straight answer out of Basile.</p>
<p>“Technically yes,” Emma groans. “But Daphné hasn’t wanted to admit it to anyone yet. Not that it’s a secret, but she was worried when they joined up that it would wreck her credibility with the crew. But that’s not how the <em> Black Rose </em> operates.”</p>
<p>“Haven’t you all been a part of the crew for a while?” Lucas asks.</p>
<p>“Daphné and Bas only joined about two months before you,” Yann replies.</p>
<p>“Daphné is rather persuasive,” Emma says, “and Bas could cook. Skills we sorely needed.”</p>
<p>“But is it worth it?” Arthur jokes.</p>
<p>Lucas can’t help but join in on the laughter.</p>
<p>It’s easy here, on the ship, in a way that Lucas wasn’t expecting. Not that it isn’t also difficult at times, but that too had been in a way he wasn’t expecting.</p>
<p>He hadn’t expected to fit in like this. Slide seamlessly into the daily routine, be accepted, looked after like he really hasn’t ever been. On some level he gets it – the bonding is a little easier when you’re all trapped on the same floating hunk of wood in the ocean, especially when you have days of downtime between raids on boats. But still, life on the <em> Black Rose </em> is calmer and gentler than he expected. And he keeps being surprised at every turn. In good ways.</p>
<p>The work, sometimes, isn’t easy. And life, on the sea, with the same three things to eat that they’ve managed to store for the weeks ahead every single day, and the smells that come from water leaking into recesses and getting trapped, and the way the sun is unrelenting sometimes in a way that turns everything hazy, is difficult and new. And yet– </p>
<p>A month ago Lucas was still fending for himself. He’d managed, he guesses, to find an ally in Manon and through her, Mika, but the situation was never permanent. He never really felt like a part of something. He was still looking out mostly for himself. </p>
<p>But this, this is different. It’s been different from the moment they allowed him on board, from the moment he saw Yann again, after the three weeks they’d spent roughing it on the streets of New Providence, from the moment he’d stepped into his role knowing almost nothing and the rest of the crew – for the most part – had been nothing but accepting and lovely, treating him like one of their own. And Eliott – well Eliott had listened to him when he spoke, saved him from being tossed overboard, and then smiled at him like he actually gave a shit about him.</p>
<p>The thought only makes the knot in his stomach twist tighter. He thinks back to his conversation with Eliott nearly a week ago. He can’t believe of all the ships in the Caribbean, he had to get involved with this one. Only, it’s not really his fault, and there’s nothing he can do about it, so he can’t quite bring himself to ruin a good thing.</p>
<p>And Eliott, god Eliott, every time he shoots him that smile it reminds Lucas of another reason he could never go back. It’s a passing thing. Something he’s always known but has kept quiet, tapped down nearly always, afraid of the kind of consequences that could come from anyone knowing. It’s made for a rather unsatisfying set of experiences mingled in with the time he spent just trying to keep himself alive. Always in dark corners or alleyways or rooms, hidden from sight – something shameful. </p>
<p>So he keeps it locked there, in his chest, behind his ribs. Tries to distract himself, keep his mind off the things he wants but can’t have. But god, Eliott’s smile. It’s enough to rattle the bars on the cage.</p>
<p>“You with us?” Yann’s voice breaks through the cloud in Lucas’ mind and he finds that his eyes, once again, have drifted back to where Eliott seems to be pointing something out to Idriss on one of his charts. He shakes himself out of it.</p>
<p>“Yes, sorry,” Lucas replies, blinking a little in the sun. “What were you saying?”</p>
<p>Emma exchanges a rather knowing look with Yann and then turns back to him. </p>
<p>“I was going to go help Alexia fix some warped boards below deck,” she says, climbing to her feet. “If you wanted to come learn that as well?”</p>
<p>Lucas nods briskly. “Yeah, of course,” he says, rising to follow her.</p>
<p>And if his eyes trail over the deck for one brief moment more before he descends below, it’s worth it, for the way Eliott finally meets his gaze.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>A few hours later, just as the sun has started to set, the Captain calls a crew meeting.</p>
<p>Lucas is sore from the hours of work he’s just done, sawing at some boards, his palms raw from the rubbing against rope. (Yann had told him eventually he’d build up calluses, but apparently that hasn’t happened yet.) Not to mention, his stomach is a bit unhappy from the meal they’d all just eaten. He can’t blame Bas – having seen the stores himself and knowing the kind of ingredients he had to work with, but still, it’s definitely not the best meal he’s ever eaten.</p>
<p>He finds himself crowded on the deck in the cool air of evening as the wind blows across his face. He’s standing next to Daphné, who had shown him how to tie up a very intricate rig, and Alexia, who had been showing him the proper way to clean his pistol only to then make it into a competition against herself that Lucas had been forced to time. (It had been a little eerie how quickly she’d managed it.)</p>
<p>The Captain is standing up front, having what looks to be a rather serious conversation with Sofiane and Idriss, pointing out something in a logbook that Lucas can’t see. And there, just beyond her right shoulder, is Eliott, looking out across the water. He studies his face for a moment, the way the light casts off the sharp angles of his jaw, the open collar of his shirt that waves a bit in the wind. He’s still studying him when Eliott turns his head and meets Lucas’ eyes. He always manages to do that, like he knows when Lucas is watching him.</p>
<p>And then Eliott has the sheer audacity to smile at him. Lucas feels his heartbeat pick up just a little. He breathes it away and then blinks, turning his attention to the Captain, who has just finished her conversation and stepped up in front of the crew.</p>
<p>“How are you all tonight?” she asks, and her voice is calm, kind, just like the one she used when she spoke to him in Manon’s office. It’s the kind of voice that commands respect without asking for it, but it’s not menacing. Lucas wonders if it’s a practiced skill.</p>
<p>Lucas hears a few positive shouts and looks around at the general happy consensus on board. It’s nothing like the tired weariness of the sailors Lucas had run into in all the ports he’d lived in. It’s a bit closer to the reckless abandon of some of the pirates he’s met, but that too isn’t quite it. It’s something different, a morale unique to the <em> Black Rose </em>. </p>
<p>“I wanted to talk to you all about a few things,” Captain Bakhellal says, smiling. “First, we need to hold a vote on a potential raid on a merchant ship due to cross our path in a few days' time.” She pauses as the whispers of excitement run through the crew. It’s something that had thrown Lucas the first time it had happened – the vote. It’s something he’d heard about vaguely, but no sailor on a navy or merchant ship could ever hope to have a system set up like that and not based entirely on hierarchies. </p>
<p>But Lucas knows now the pirate system is a bit different and depends quite a bit on the ship you’re a part of, but pirate captains and the power structure they uphold are much more fluid and dependent on the crew. Captain Bakhellal has her power because the crew wants her to, and she knows that. So they vote on most of the major operations, even though they usually pass because the crew trusts her wholeheartedly. Lucas hasn’t heard a bad word spoken about her.</p>
<p>“Second thing,” she says, clapping her hands together, “Alaoui has finished splitting up all the shares from our last raid, so he’ll be getting them to you after this.”</p>
<p>That causes considerable more excitement through the crew. It’s nice, Lucas imagines, to be able to hold something in your hand as a physical reminder of what you’ve managed. And Lucas will be able to hold onto it, is the thing. Put it somewhere safe and tuck it away, not having to rely on it immediately. He already feels on more solid ground even in the middle of the ocean. </p>
<p>Captain Bakhellal waits until they’ve calmed down a bit and then explains. The ship they’re proposing is a small shipping vessel. Nothing too grand in terms of pay off or importance, but it’s rumored to be carrying a rather fresh supply of food and water, which makes the Captain think an intervention might be worth it. After all, as pirates, they can’t always just stride into a port to get these things themselves.</p>
<p>There’s a bit of back and forth after that – crew members asking questions and the Captain being honest in what she knows. Yann points out that they don’t really know how large the crew is, but Alaoui notes that with the size of the ship and the normal crews for boats of such size, they should be fine. Alex questions the order of the boarding groups and the Captain assures him they can talk about reconfiguring them a bit. And then she holds the vote. Unanimous, like normal, and it’s decided.</p>
<p>Lucas feels the prick of excitement just below his sternum at the thought. It’s still new – not something he’s entirely used to or altogether pleased about, but he recognizes it for what it is – the thrill of adventure and the knowledge that he’s about to do something useful. It’s always easier with a purpose.</p>
<p>After, Lucas lingers by the corner of the deck as the rest of the crew surrounds Alaoui, waiting for their share. He watches, waiting, and sees them walk away with bits and pieces to store until the time is right, building something like a future out – something he realizes many of them never thought they’d have. Much like him.</p>
<p>He tries not to, but in the end he doesn’t have much control over it. His eyes search out on the rapidly darkening deck for signs of Eliott, but he doesn’t see him there, already disappeared down below deck or into his cabin for the night. He tries to ignore the sinking feeling in his stomach.</p>
<p>Finally, Alaoui makes his way over to Lucas.</p>
<p>“There you are,” he says, dropping a small pouch into Lucas’ hand. </p>
<p>It’s small, yes, but heavy with the coins inside and Lucas knows instantly he’s never held this kind of money that’s been all <em> his </em>, all something he gets to keep.</p>
<p>Something comes over him and he can’t help but stare at the pouch in his hand, his eyebrows pulling together as he mulls it over.</p>
<p>But Alaoui must mistake his look for something else. “I know it’s not much,” he says, “but you’re new so it’s where the shares start. It’ll go up, I promise.”</p>
<p>Lucas shakes his head. “No, it’s fine, really. I honestly wasn’t expecting this much,” he admits.</p>
<p>“You’re worth more than you think,” Alaoui replies, giving him a small smile. “As you’ve already shown.”</p>
<p>Lucas raises an eyebrow in question.</p>
<p>“Just, with Eliott,” he says. “I’m glad you were there to step in. I love him, but some things about this life just don’t suit him.”</p>
<p>“Like paying attention to his surroundings?” Lucas offers.</p>
<p>Alaoui laughs a little, but his mouth has pulled into a thin line. “Something like that.”</p>
<p>Lucas doesn’t want to dwell on what that could mean.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>It’s Eliott who finds him later, who seeks him out in the dark corridors below deck, only the softness of the moonlight and the flickering of a small lamp pulling it out of the darkness.</p>
<p>Lucas is returning something to one of the storage rooms when he runs, nearly facefirst, into Eliott in the passage. Eliott clearly having waited there for a while.</p>
<p>“Lucas,” he says softly, finally, in his honey-soaked voice that makes chills run down Lucas’ spine. Hearing his own name has never done that to him before.</p>
<p>“Hi,” Lucas responds, looking at Eliott where he’s fidgeting, moving from one foot to another, his hands clasped behind his back.</p>
<p>There’s silence for a brief moment as Eliott just looks back at him, giving him a weak smile. But Lucas doesn’t really know what to say, how to fill that space. In the end, it’s Eliott who speaks.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” he says, “for the last week. Things have been a bit busy.”</p>
<p>Lucas shrugs. It’s not like it matters. Eliott has responsibilities, he understands. He doesn’t need him around all the time. Even if he had noticed he was missing.</p>
<p>“Are you okay?” Lucas asks. </p>
<p>Eliott gives him a small smile. “I’m fine,” he says. A pause and then, “Also I have something for you.”</p>
<p>That catches Lucas off-guard. He’s not sure he’s ever really been given anything just for him. Well, except for the thing that hangs around his neck, but that had been special circumstances.</p>
<p>“You do?”</p>
<p>Eliott looks at him, and Lucas sees just a hint of embarrassment behind his eyes. But then he takes a deep breath and pulls something out from behind his back. A coat, made out of a thick dark cloth and sewn in rich shades of blue. </p>
<p>“Here,” he says.</p>
<p>It’s beautiful and looks rather expensive and Lucas can’t understand why exactly Eliott is holding it out to him. He looks up, bewildered.</p>
<p>“What do you mean ‘here’?” Lucas asks. </p>
<p>Eliott snorts. “I mean ‘here’ as in ‘take this thing I’m offering you’.”</p>
<p>“Why?”</p>
<p>“Because I want you to have it.”</p>
<p>Lucas shoots Eliott an unimpressed look. He’s not folding so easily. “Where did you even get something like that?”</p>
<p>“It was part of my share.” Eliott shrugs. </p>
<p>“I can’t take part of your share,” Lucas shoots back. He’s always had a weird thing about accepting handouts from people, about getting things he feels like he doesn’t deserve. “It’s yours!”</p>
<p>“But I don’t want it,” Eliott replies, laughing. “And anyway, I only took it from the ship in the first place so that you could have it.”</p>
<p>Lucas freezes. Eliott does the same. He can tell Eliott hadn’t meant to say that, but Lucas knows his stubborn nature has led many people to say things they hadn’t meant to.</p>
<p>Eliott blushes, tripping over his words as he tries to explain. “Just that, uh, I was thinking about the storm and I know you don’t really have other clothes, and I thought, with the nights getting colder it might be nice to have,” he trails off rather helplessly. </p>
<p>Lucas just stares at him. It’s a new feeling – being paid attention.</p>
<p>“And uh,” Eliott adds, “it’s blue, so it goes with your eyes.”</p>
<p>Lucas feels the swoop of his stomach and hears the sharp intake of breath as he looks back rather weakly. He’s not even sure how Eliott intended it, but since the thoughts are there, they go there again, and Lucas has to shake them away.</p>
<p>“Oh,” is all he manages. </p>
<p>“So will you take it?” </p>
<p>Lucas nods, any semblance of a refusal long gone, and he reaches out to take the coat from Eliott’s hands, fingers brushing against the soft fabric as he pulls it into his arms. </p>
<p>“Thank you,” he says softly. He’s not sure he can say anything else right now.</p>
<p>“You’re welcome,” Eliott replies, just as softly. He smiles at Lucas again – that smile – and then his face shifts as the moment passes and is gone. “I’m also wondering,” he says shyly, “with the upcoming raid and everything, if your offer still stands.”</p>
<p>And there it is – the thing Lucas has been waiting for him to ask about for an entire week. He pushes down the grin that threatens to take over.</p>
<p>“The offer to teach you how to not disgrace yourself around a sword you mean?” Lucas teases, the familiar lilt to his tone coming back in full force.</p>
<p>Eliott blushes. “That’s the one.”</p>
<p>“How does tomorrow sound? In the afternoon.”</p>
<p>“Tomorrow sounds great.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eliott meets him down near a store room the next afternoon. </p>
<p>Lucas has been out the whole morning working with Alex and Emma to secure some of the sails, which had, in and of itself, been an experience. He’s tired, from baking in the sun the whole morning, and his hands sting a bit from the rope burn. </p>
<p>But then he remembers that Eliott’s waiting for him, and the exhaustion seems to fade.</p>
<p>He meets him, there next to the storeroom, hair disheveled and a sword in hand. It’s a bit strange seeing him like that – Eliott, who is known around the ship for never really carrying a weapon with him, only grabbing something when it’s absolutely necessary. Lucas, on the other hand, has been well-accustomed to always having at least a knife on him, and his sword close at hand. It’s interesting to have Eliott meet him in his comfort zone.</p>
<p>It’s a stark contrast too, from the past week – the quick greetings and the passing by. Eliott looks up when Lucas enters the room and smiles, enough to make Lucas’ eyes linger. It’s a lot to have all Eliott’s attention directed at him.</p>
<p>But that’s not what they’re here for. Eliott wants to learn. And Lucas is here to teach him.</p>
<p>“Busy morning?” Eliott asks him as he looks him up and down. Lucas knows he must look a state – sweaty and rather disgusting from the battle with the canvas – but he hopes Eliott will understand.</p>
<p>“Yeah, I was helping Emma and Alex repair a sail,” he replies, wiping his forehead on his already rather dingy sleeve.</p>
<p>“Ah,” Eliott muses, holding back a smile. </p>
<p>“I don’t want to hear anything from you,” Lucas says a little indignantly. “With all your little maps and your stargazing and your navigating all from the nice shaded space of the Captain’s cabin.”</p>
<p>Eliott looks at him amusedly. “Is that what you think I do?”</p>
<p>“Well it’s what it <em> looks </em> like you do.”</p>
<p>Eliott nods. “Hm. Well remind me to show you sometime. I think you might be surprised.”</p>
<p>“Is that so?”</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Eliott says. “Never hurts to find out.”</p>
<p>Lucas doesn’t know quite what to say to that. In fact, he thinks he’d love to watch Eliott work, see just how he makes his calculations and figures out how to make them sail on a sound path through the open water. But the thought is brief and Lucas is all too quick to push it away. Instead he deflects, turning his attention back to what he can control. He always feels safer calling the shots.</p>
<p>“Well,” he says, drawing his sword from the sheath on his hip. “Enough chit chat. Are you ready for your first lesson?”</p>
<p>Lucas glances up and sees how Eliott tracks his movements. There’s something a bit like dread that Lucas attributes to his distaste for fighting. But there’s something else too, that flashes across Eliott’s face that he can’t quite place. He decides to ignore it.</p>
<p>“Always,” Eliott replies.</p>
<p>“Okay,” Lucas says, clapping his hands together as Eliott picks up his sword. “Show me your stance.”</p>
<p>Eliott nods, shifting the sword into his left hand and then stepping forward slightly with his left foot, his knees bent, as his hips twist toward the right. </p>
<p>Lucas bites his lip, trying not to smile. It’s not that Eliott is entirely hopeless. In fact, Lucas thinks with a few basic lessons and a better attention to form and he could probably be quite deadly. He seems agile and light on his feet, and could probably prove to be a rather annoying target for more encumbered men. </p>
<p>But the thing that really throws Lucas off about the whole image is the way it stands in sharp contrast to the Eliott he’s beginning to know. As he stands there, weapon in hand, crouched in a fighting stance, even a determined look on his face, he looks almost like a different person. And while he may be able to fool sailors on the ships they attack, Lucas can see through it, can see through to the slight way he’s clenched his jaw, how his knees shake just a bit, how uncomfortable all of this truly makes him. Something thrums deep in his chest.</p>
<p>He shakes his head, blinking away his thoughts as he steps closer to Eliott, moving in behind him to fix the problems. He reaches out toward his hips, his hands barely making contact before Eliott flinches, his entire body suddenly going rigid. </p>
<p>“Sorry, sorry,” Lucas laughs, lifting his hands as he takes a step to the side. “Just turn your hips, square them off, so that your body is facing front.”</p>
<p>Eliott twists, but it’s still not quite right.</p>
<p>“No,” Lucas says again, reaching out to gently rest his fingers against Eliott’s hip bones, turning him ever so slightly to face the front, ignoring how Eliott inhales abruptly, “like this.”</p>
<p>Eliott nods briskly, the muscles in his back tensing slightly as he shifts his feet underneath him. “Okay,” he says hollowly.</p>
<p>Lucas moves on then, stepping around Eliott to approach him from the left side, nodding at his hand holding the sword.</p>
<p>“Now this,” he says.</p>
<p>Lucas reaches out and adjusts Eliott’s grip, his hand tensing at first as Lucas touches him, but then relaxing again as Lucas nudges his fingers a bit, rotating his wrist slightly. </p>
<p>“There,” Lucas says softly, his eyes trained on the place where Eliott holds the sword, where their hands meet, wary, for some reason, of looking up. “More like this. Don’t hold it so tight. Be a little gentler.”</p>
<p>“Gentler,” Eliott murmurs.</p>
<p>Lucas can feel the way Eliott flexes his hand under his own, the tendons shifting under his touch as he adjusts the way he’s holding it. Lucas chances a glance up and finds Eliott’s eyes focused on the place that connects him to the sword.</p>
<p>Eliott swallows and then nods again. “Okay,” he says.</p>
<p>Lucas takes him through a few basic drills, correcting his form when need be, and teaching him some of the more basic postures and techniques. The kind of thing that will encourage Eliott’s ability to defend himself and limit the number of times and ways his opponents are just able to knock the whole thing out of his hand. </p>
<p>It’s not exactly how Lucas would normally approach teaching someone to fight, but the thing is, it’s perhaps exactly because he doesn’t feel like <em> fighting </em> is truly the end goal.</p>
<p>They haven’t really talked about the way Eliott was threatened on the boat. Eliott had thanked him, of course, for stepping in, but beyond that, it hadn’t really been mentioned again. From asking around to Yann and Basile and mostly Alexia, he’d found out that those kinds of situations weren’t exactly uncommon for the crew or the ship. Comes with the territory and all that. But Lucas could see just how shaken up Eliott was, could see the way he’d frozen a bit in panic, helpless. Lucas knows what that feels like – helplessness. And if he can teach Eliott just one thing that means he never has to feel that again, it’d all be worth it.</p>
<p>After making him run through the maneuvers a few more times, Eliott asks him for a break, his arm already sore from waving the sword around (albeit incorrectly) for the past hour. Lucas can already imagine what he’s going to feel like in the morning. </p>
<p>Eliott leans against the wall and wipes at his face, breathing hard. It’s a sight, to be sure. One that Lucas knows he won’t soon forget.</p>
<p>“Am I getting <em> any </em> better?” Eliott asks him after a beat.</p>
<p>Lucas laughs. “It’s only the first lesson.”</p>
<p>“But still,” Eliott groans. “I feel like I must have had to pick up on something by now. Or I’m officially hopeless and we should stop this thing before you waste your time.”</p>
<p>Lucas shakes his head, looking him over. “You’re not hopeless. And in any case, your grip has gotten better, so that’s something.”</p>
<p>“Oh?” Eliott raises his eyebrows. “So I officially no longer have the worst grip you’ve ever seen?”</p>
<p>“I didn’t say that.”</p>
<p>Eliott shoves him.</p>
<p>And it’s good. Eliott is a good student, capable and eager and he takes everything Lucas says with stride and a kind of determination that leaves Lucas a little in awe. But he also knows situations won’t always stay the same, and he can teach Eliott all the fancy footwork in the world, but it won’t save him if his opponent decides to change the rules of the game. Using a sword is about so much more than swinging a bit of metal through the air. It takes patience and care to understand and do it properly. It demands adaptability and resilience and is unforgiving in its mistakes, as is with most weapons. There’s almost nothing Lucas can do to prepare Eliott for every situation, only give him tools and hope he uses them properly.</p>
<p>“Really though,” Lucas admits. “You’re doing better than I expected.”</p>
<p>Eliott does his best to look offended but collapses quickly into a smile. “That’s fair,” he says, running his hand through his hair. “Lucas?”</p>
<p>“Hm?”</p>
<p>“What’s the best piece of advice you can give me?”</p>
<p>Lucas has to think for a moment, searching for the lessons that have helped him the most in his encounters over the years. </p>
<p>“Well I would say you have to remember two things.”</p>
<p>“Just two things?” Eliott laughs. “Well that’s not so bad.”</p>
<p>Lucas rolls his eyes. “Well no, but these are the most important things.”</p>
<p>“Are they?”</p>
<p>“Yes,” Lucas insists. “Because the thing is, in any sort of situation where you’ll be using your sword, things can change all the time. You’ll have to adapt, sometimes do things that go against a lot of the basics because your opponents won’t always stick to the rules. But if you don’t focus, you can end up in even greater danger because they can draw your attention away, fake you out, make you focus on something not important, which can give them the upper hand. And you never want to give them the upper hand if you can help it. There is always someone on the offensive and someone on the defensive. Learning defensive techniques is good and important, but you want to be the one on the offensive because then you’re the one setting the pace, making the rules. You’re the one acting and they’re the one reacting.”</p>
<p>“Okay,” Eliott replies, drinking him in. “That seemed like more than two things.”</p>
<p>Lucas shakes his head. “Yeah, well, let me make it simple for you then.”</p>
<p>“Please.”</p>
<p>“Two rules.”</p>
<p>“Okay.”</p>
<p>Lucas gives him a long look. “One: don’t let yourself be distracted. And two: never let your guard down.”</p>
<p>“I think I can do that,” Eliott says.</p>
<p>Lucas raises an eyebrow at him. “I hope so.”</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Lucas intends to wait a few days for the next lesson, but with the next raid on the ship rapidly approaching, Lucas can tell Eliott is anxious to get another round of practice in.</p>
<p>It’s like a switch has flipped and suddenly Eliott is seeking him out all over the ship for a few minutes of practice here and there. It gets so bad that eventually Lucas has to just tell him to come find him later that evening once he’s done with all the tasks he’s supposed to be working on. God knows Eliott is a distraction, and it’s one Lucas can’t deal with every moment of the day if he’s going to keep pretending it means nothing more to him than this.</p>
<p>Though, in another way he’s grateful that in the frantic energy of his days, it’s easy to forget about everything else for a while. It’s those moments alone that get to him, that make him raise his hand to his sternum and brush against the metal hanging there and make him forget how to breathe for a moment, until the next distraction comes along.</p>
<p>He’s standing that evening with Yann and Daphné, laughing about the mess Emma had made in the galley when she’d gone back to help Basile again. The sun has already set, but time becomes a bit of an illusion when your days remain roughly the same. He’d had to think long and hard about it last night to determine just how long he’d actually been on the ship, and even then he found he wasn’t exactly sure. </p>
<p>But he doesn’t mind – the way time sort of seems to stop out here, where each day isn’t punctuated by the search for basic needs.</p>
<p>Eliott finds them there, by the bow.</p>
<p>“Demaury,” Yann nods in greeting, and Eliott returns it, looking rather sheepish.</p>
<p>Lucas wonders if his lack of skill with a sword was well-known on the ship before his arrival, if these lessons might be a source of embarrassment for someone at an officer level on the ship. He knows Eliott’s reputation has been carefully crafted, as have the rest of the crew’s to be something that most of them are not, but still. It seems unlikely that someone could know Eliott for more than an hour and not realize the kindness and gentleness he carries in his heart.</p>
<p>“How are you, Eliott?” Alexia asks him, and Lucas watches as she looks between them.</p>
<p>Eliott shrugs. “I’m alright.” He pauses. “I have a new chart if you want to take a look at some point. It’s drawn out in a slightly different way so it might be useful.”</p>
<p>“Yeah, that’d be great,” Alexia replies, grinning at him. “And then maybe you’ll finally let me try my hand at actually navigating us somewhere.”</p>
<p>“Hm,” Eliott teases, “we’ll see about that.” </p>
<p>Alexia just rolls her eyes. “You’re going to have to let me do it at some point.”</p>
<p>“At some point,” Eliott agrees. </p>
<p>There’s a beat and then they both collapse into laughter. Lucas just looks between them. He hadn’t realized they were as close as they seem to be, and something pangs deep in his chest. It’s fine, of course, but just unexpected. Obviously Eliott should talk to people in the crew outside of himself, so it’s fine.</p>
<p>Eliott’s eyes find his. </p>
<p>“Shall we go?” he asks.</p>
<p>Lucas nods. “C’mon.” He brushes the hilt of his sword with his fingertips. “Let’s get this over with.”</p>
<p>He sees the hint of a smile play at the corners of Eliott’s mouth.</p>
<p>They say goodnight to Yann and Alexia, and then Lucas turns to make his way down below deck, to the area near the storage room they used before. If Eliott is embarrassed, Lucas would rather let him learn away from prying eyes. But Eliott stops him and pulls him back.</p>
<p>“Why don’t we just stay on the deck tonight?” he suggests, his eyes bright. “It’ll be dark below deck anyway, so if we stay up here then at least we can use the moon.”</p>
<p>Lucas can only nod in agreement. </p>
<p>Eliott pulls him over to the port side, near the crates where Lucas had cleaned the blood off his cheek. There’s something vibrant in the way he moves tonight, giddy and excited and all too willing to do whatever Lucas instructs him to do. It’s like Lucas is watching the life flow through him. It’s mesmerizing.</p>
<p>Lucas takes him through a few of the drills from last time, and it’s clear immediately that Eliott’s been practicing. He already holds his sword with more confidence, and he’s playing more to the offensive, setting the pace while Lucas responds. It makes Lucas smile.</p>
<p>“You’ve been practicing,” he says, as Eliott parries a slow strike.</p>
<p>Eliott nods, his face gleeful. “I’ve been making Idriss stand in when you were busy. It’s amazing what learning how to hold the sword properly does.”</p>
<p>“That’s what I told you,” Lucas laughs. Eliott lunges toward him again.</p>
<p>They continue to work as the night deepens, the sweat beginning to collect at Lucas’ back and he can see it at Eliott’s temples, turning his hair a bit darker there. Eliott is no prodigy, that’s for sure, but there’s a new kind of confidence there, and a new ability to protect himself, even just a bit, that makes Lucas feel like he’s done the right thing in teaching him. He’s never liked being governed by fear and he can tell Eliott hasn’t either.</p>
<p>They stop after a while to catch their breath, their muscles aching, the sky dark but spotted with bright stars. Lucas watches as Eliott leans back against the railing, and looks up, exposing the long column of his throat as he searches for something Lucas can’t see. Lucas swallows and then turns to join him there.</p>
<p>“What are you looking at?” he says softly. The world is quiet around them save for the waves against the hull. Most of the crew has gone to bed, leaving Lucas and Eliott rather alone up here with only the peaceful night.</p>
<p>“The stars,” Eliott replies cheekily, glancing over at Lucas with a smirk.</p>
<p>Lucas rolls his eyes. “Yeah, any idiot can do that. Me included. But I want to know what <em> you </em> are looking at. It means something to you.”</p>
<p>Eliott’s face breaks into a smile, his eyes finding Lucas’. And then he nods.</p>
<p>“You’re right,” he says. “I’m looking at Polaris.”</p>
<p>“Polaris?”</p>
<p>“The North Star.”</p>
<p>“Oh.” </p>
<p>Lucas really doesn’t know anything about the sky, but he has heard of the North Star before. And he’s heard, apparently, that it’s useful for sailors, though he has no idea why.</p>
<p>“And does that help you?” he asks.</p>
<p>“It could, but I don’t really use it for navigation,” Eliott laughs. “I mean, it’s always good to know, but I have a compass for showing me north. I just like finding it, because it’s always in the same place. The sky turns around it, you know. But it stays there, fixed. Something you can rely on, steady and constant.”</p>
<p>Lucas takes a deep breath and inches closer. </p>
<p>“Show me?”</p>
<p>Eliott nods and raises his hand. “Look where I’m pointing.”</p>
<p>He traces out shapes in the night sky, showing him first something called Ursa Major, that Lucas has to pretend he sees for a good five minutes before Eliott realizes he’s pretending and patiently continues to describe it until Lucas finally does see it, and then from there: Polaris.</p>
<p>“Isn’t it supposed to be the brightest star in the sky?” Lucas asks, afraid to look away, only to lose it amongst the patchwork above him.</p>
<p>“A myth,” Eliott replies, his voice low in Lucas’ ear, “But it doesn’t have to be the brightest to be important.”</p>
<p>Lucas can’t help the shiver that runs down his spine.</p>
<p>Eliott shows him other constellations too. Not at all useful for nautical navigation, but a hobby he’d picked up from his father apparently, who’d also been a navigator but who had “always kept his eyes fixed on the sky.”</p>
<p>Sometimes it takes Lucas a while to see what Eliott sees, to pull the patterns down and sees the shapes Eliott describes, to connect them to the myths Eliott whispers to him as the moon shines down. And sometimes, he doesn’t see them at all. But Eliott speaks about them with such conviction that Lucas knows they’re there somewhere, and hopes, one day, he’ll be able to see them too.</p>
<p>“See it there?” Eliott asks him.</p>
<p>Lucas turns to find their faces close – much closer than he had realized they’ve become – and all he can say is yes. Yes, he sees.</p>
<p>He shouldn’t get so close to something he can’t keep.</p>
<p>But it’s like he’s being pulled under, a riptide that’s grabbed a hold of him and refuses to let go. But he goes willingly, being pulled deeper and deeper out to sea. But there’s no panic, no fear of drowning, even if there should be.</p>
<p>Lucas feels like being reckless. And he’s so close, so close to doing something stupid and irreversable when Idriss appears near the stern and calls out to them.</p>
<p>“What are you two still doing up?” he shouts, his voice breaking through the haze that had been swirling around them. Eliott jumps and takes a step away from Lucas. Lucas tries not to notice. </p>
<p>“We were just practicing,” Eliott calls back.</p>
<p>Idriss doesn’t look amused. “You both should go to bed, we have a big day tomorrow,” and then he stands, waiting apparently, for them to move, barely looking at Lucas at all.</p>
<p>“He doesn’t like me very much, does he?” Lucas asks.</p>
<p>“He likes you fine,” Eliott says. Lucas gives him a disbelieving look and Eliott sighs. “He’s just protective is all. Goodnight, Lucas.”</p>
<p>And then he bounds off toward where Idriss is waiting, leaving Lucas in the dark to decipher what that means.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>In the end, the raid on the ship is quick and relatively uneventful. Alaoui’s predictions were correct in saying their crew would outnumber that of the other ship and in the end it didn’t matter, as the other captain had almost immediately surrendered at the sight of their black sail unfurling from its mast.</p>
<p>It’s a good haul all the same though, mostly in restocking their food. And they really hit the jackpot in a few barrels of fresh water. But it’s a kind of quiet affair after the excitement of the first raid. And even the crew seems less anxious about it. Perhaps because it’s not a ship linked to a rather infamous merchant.</p>
<p>There’s a moment of excitement when they first board the ship. Lucas, who had been moved to the first boarding group, is met with a young man who seems to be trying to defend himself by drawing his sword the minute Lucas comes near. But it’s quick, Lucas twisting his wrist and disarming him, with a move he learned back in Port Royal from a retired (really, fired) Navy captain. And that’s the end of the fight. </p>
<p>They move along the ship, taking what they want, and then leave again, pulling up anchor soon after they lowered it and sailing off again into the deep blue water.</p>
<p>It should feel good, how quick and painless it all was, but it does nothing to scratch the itch in Lucas’ chest, does nothing to take away the restlessness that’s settled into his skin and he’s left feeling more unbalanced than before. </p>
<p>His only victory is that Eliott offers to guard the other crew as they move about the ship, his sword strong and steady in his hand.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>That night, the crew has gathered to celebrate the day’s victory.</p>
<p>Lucas has peeled away from the group, sitting quietly on a corner of the deck. The rest of the crew are rowdy – laughing and drinking in conjunction with the excitement, but Lucas is more somber, forlorn, pulling the deep blue coat Eliott had given to him tighter around his body as the air gets colder. He watches as Felix spots what he can only hope is a small mouse and tears off after it. It makes him smile.</p>
<p>The heat leaks out of the evenings now, as the sun slides down toward the horizon, lighting the world up in shades of gold, but taking its warmth with it. Lucas is grateful for the coat, much nicer and thicker than the one he’s been carrying with him for the past three years, covered in dirt and patches from where it had worn through. It’s a precious thing, he knows, as he strokes the soft fabric. A treasure he probably doesn’t yet deserve, if he ever truly would, and yet Eliott had given it to him all the same. </p>
<p>He doesn’t notice that Eliott has followed him away from the group until he drops down on the crate beside him. He startles for a moment, but seeing Eliott he smiles a little in greeting and turns back to look out over the horizon.</p>
<p>The night is dark, but the stars are bright, mapping out a course – unknown for now but inevitable.</p>
<p>“You always do that,” Lucas says softly, knowing his cheeks are turning pink.</p>
<p>“What?”</p>
<p>“Startle me.”</p>
<p>Eliott lifts an eyebrow. “Startle you?” He laughs. “I don’t mean to.”</p>
<p>Lucas shrugs. “I don’t mind.”</p>
<p>He looks over at Eliott and their eyes meet for a moment, Eliott holding his gaze and just looking back, his eyes turning much more blue in the rapidly deepening twilight. It’s another side of him, another change Lucas takes note of: Eliott’s eyes are greener in the sun and bluer in the darkness. It’s information of no consequence but still Lucas holds it close.</p>
<p>“You’re wearing it,” Eliott says quietly, nodding at his coat. </p>
<p>Lucas nods. “It’s warm.”</p>
<p>“Oh that’s it?” Eliott teases.</p>
<p> And normally Lucas would bite back, play at that game, but tonight he’s just tired. Doesn’t really have it in him. Eliott seems to notice.</p>
<p>“You okay?” Eliott asks, taking a swig from the bottle and passing it to Lucas.</p>
<p>Lucas sighs and raises the bottle to his lips, taking a large swallow. He’s not quite sure how he feels if he’s honest. These raids are always an adrenaline high, the anticipation rooting deep in his stomach and the thrill of the fight making him feel stronger and more important as he lands on the other ship’s deck. But after, he’s not quite sure how he feels. It’s strange, after all this time, after all the precautions he knows they all take, after the reassurance that they aren’t hurting people who can’t get themselves back on their feet, that he feels weird about the whole thing. </p>
<p>He thinks, maybe, it’s the fear. The kind he sees in the other sailor’s eyes when they take over, the moments where they’re loud and strong and violent in order to make others cower. Even though he knows they’ll be alright, he also knows they don’t know that. That in that moment, it might feel <em> very </em> real to them, no matter who they are – the crew of the <em> Black Rose </em> relies on it. And even though morally he feels okay with it, it still sits strangely in his chest. Because that fear, he knows it well, even if he hasn’t often been on this side of it.</p>
<p>But he doesn’t really know how to say that, or if Eliott really even wants to hear it. So instead he just shrugs.</p>
<p>“I get it,” Eliott says gently, filling the silence. And for whatever reason, maybe from the way he’s looking at him, Lucas feels like he does. “It takes a while to get used to it. But you do.”</p>
<p>Lucas looks toward the sky, trying to find something to say. Instead he asks a question, “How long have you been a part of the <em> Black Rose </em>?”</p>
<p>Eliott takes a breath. “Since it started,” he answers. “Since we got the ship about a year ago.”</p>
<p>“That long?”</p>
<p>Eliott shrugs. “We were with another ship before that.”</p>
<p>Lucas inhales. He can’t imagine being in one place that long.</p>
<p>“We?” he asks. </p>
<p>“Me, the Captain and Idriss,” Eliott says, with a small smile. “I’ve known them since I was very young.”</p>
<p>Lucas smiles. He had heard the rumors, of course, from Yann and Emma, but it’s nice to have them confirmed by Eliott. He can’t imagine what that must be like – having people who have known you your whole life, who can remember how you once were and can see who you’ve become.</p>
<p>“You grew up together?”</p>
<p>Eliott nods. “Our parents were friends, neighbors. I spent a lot of time with them while our fathers were away.”</p>
<p>“Your fathers?”</p>
<p>“They were sailors together, on the same ship,” Eliott replies. “And when my mother died they sort of took me in.”</p>
<p>Lucas feels a lump in his throat. He wasn’t sure what he expected. He knows most of the people on this ship are here because they have nowhere else to go, but it’s strange, still, to hear they share this.</p>
<p>“How did she die?” he asks. He flinches at the bluntness of it. But Eliott seems not to notice.</p>
<p>“She was sick,” Eliott says.</p>
<p>Lucas nods. “Mine too.” She was, in a way.</p>
<p>Eliott doesn’t seem surprised. And it’s not surprising, considering the circumstances. And considering how common that really is. But still it’s awful, and Lucas hates that it’s the reality.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry,” is all Eliott says.</p>
<p>“I’m sorry too,” Lucas replies.</p>
<p>There’s a moment, when they look at each other and Lucas gives Eliott a small, reassuring smile.</p>
<p>“And your father?” Lucas asks. </p>
<p>Eliott turns his head at the question, looking out at the water instead. “Dead as well,” he replies, but his voice is quiet. Much quieter than Lucas has heard before.</p>
<p>Lucas wants to know more but it doesn’t seem like something Eliott wants to keep talking about, so he doesn’t push it. Eliott turns back after a moment, a question in his eyes. But in the end he doesn’t ask it, so Lucas doesn’t answer. It still all feels so new and he’s not used to sharing anything about himself with anyone. </p>
<p>It’s new territory, freshly broken ground and it feels like something inside him is opening up again, but it’s less like a wound and more like a garden, just waiting for the chance to flourish.</p>
<p>Lucas is silent again but when he turns and looks at Eliott, he feels something in his chest shift. Eliott always looks at him with such kindness, like every word he says means something to him. It’s devastating.</p>
<p>“Why did you do it? Become a pirate?” He searches Eliott’s face for an answer. He finds one there, before Eliott speaks, in the way his jaw clenches.</p>
<p>“I didn’t have a choice,” Eliott replies.</p>
<p>Lucas lets out a small, humorless laugh. “Neither did I.”</p>
<p>There’s a lot that remains unsaid, but in that moment, it’s the most Lucas has uttered about himself in a long time and it feels something like progress.</p>
<p>Eliott scoots closer to him on the wooden deck so that their shoulders are touching and looks at him, really looks at him for a moment, before he lays his head on Lucas’ shoulder and turns his face up to the sky.</p>
<p>Lucas keeps his eyes on Eliott for a beat, then another. He watches him watch the sky spin above them. And then and he traces the path of his gaze and looks skyward too, watching as the heavens spread out before them.</p>
<p> </p>
<p>Eliott seems to soften around Lucas a bit after that. Not anything vastly different than before, only his jokes are rounder at their edges and Lucas finds he seeks him out more. Not that he’s complaining, of course, but it’s different.</p>
<p>Idriss too, seems to relax a bit. He talks to Lucas more now, offers to show him things around the ship that Lucas hasn’t learned yet, and he’s patient, kind. It’s different from the way he’d bristled at Lucas before. He chalks it up to slowly gaining his trust and leaves it there. He’s grateful for it by any account.</p>
<p>A few days later, the crew of the <em> Black Rose </em> is sitting around on deck, laughing and joking in the cooling air when Idriss sits down next to him.</p>
<p>“I’ve been meaning to ask you,” he says in lieu of greeting, “do you think you could show me how to do that disarming maneuver you used during our last raid?”</p>
<p>Lucas can only nod, a little shocked that Idriss is coming to him of all people, but it feels like a final kind of olive branch, and Lucas takes it.</p>
<p>“Sure,” he replies.</p>
<p>They stand up and move a little away from where the rest of the crew is sitting, drawing swords as Lucas walks him through the motions. Idriss picks it up quickly, much quicker than Eliott would, so Lucas changes his tactics, just laying out the general motions and letting Idriss take it from there. </p>
<p>He asks to practice with Lucas a few times and Lucas agrees, moving slowly to let Idriss see how each of his moves affects Lucas’ grip on his sword before he finally seems to understand. </p>
<p>“It’s so simple,” Idriss says, laughing. “Can’t believe I’ve never heard of it before.”</p>
<p>“Happy to help,” Lucas says, smiling and clapping Idriss on his shoulder.</p>
<p>And then he looks up, for a moment, and finds Eliott staring at them from across the deck, a hard set to his jaw, and Lucas can’t help but look back.</p>
<p>Idriss thanks him, and returns to the crew, even though many of them have started to make their way to bed. Lucas stays by the side of the ship. He watches as Eliott pushes himself up from where he was sitting and slowly makes his way over to Lucas where he leans beside him.</p>
<p>“Expanding your business?” Eliott asks, refusing to look away.</p>
<p>“Maybe,” Lucas says. “What’s it you?”</p>
<p>Something flashes over Eliott’s face, but he ignores Lucas’ question, asking one of his own instead.</p>
<p>“Are you going to teach that to me? Or is that reserved for Idriss?”</p>
<p>Lucas can’t help but laugh. “I can if you want.”</p>
<p>“Good,” Eliott says, nodding his head. “Then let’s go.”</p>
<p>“What now?”</p>
<p>“Why not?”</p>
<p>He takes Lucas by the elbow and pulls him below deck, walking him to the area near the storage room, away from everyone else. Lucas lets him. </p>
<p>Eliott faces him, squaring up just like Lucas taught him, his sword grasped firmly in his hand. </p>
<p>“Show me,” he says.</p>
<p>Lucas nods, but finds he can’t say anything else. Not that there’s really anything to say, but the pounding of his heart in his chest has taken over, and all he can do is count out its rhythm.</p>
<p>He raises his sword and it connects against Eliott’s blade. He goes through the movements slowly, moving his sword around to twist Eliott’s wrist, and showing how the movement might be enough to get the upper hand, causing your opponent to drop their weapon. He watches as Eliott’s eyebrows furrow in concentration, marking down all the movements and committing them to memory. </p>
<p>“And then,” he says as Eliott drops his sword to the floor and Lucas backs him up against the wall, “you have them.”</p>
<p>He catches the hint of a smile as it graces Eliott’s lips.</p>
<p>“Oh, that’s all?” Eliott replies and he looks up at Lucas, catching his gaze, holding it for a moment, dropping only to roam his face for a second before they return the look. He holds it, like a dare maybe, and Lucas isn’t sure he can follow through. </p>
<p>Because to him, it feels like something else. Like something that’s been growing and blossoming in an uncontrollable way. The heat that first pricked him when he met Eliott’s eyes across the crowded tavern, that’s only been growing hotter since. The kind that leaves Lucas wary of bursting into flames.</p>
<p>Only he can’t be sure. There are a thousand reasons that acting on anything he may or may not be feeling would be stupid and reckless. And if Lucas has learned anything in the past few years, it’s that he can’t be stupid and reckless. He can’t afford it. Only– </p>
<p>No. </p>
<p>He drops his eyes and steps back from Eliott, letting the moment pass. </p>
<p>“Now you try,” he says.</p>
<p>He turns around as Eliott picks up his sword and takes a deep breath, in and out, hoping it will do something to distract him. In and out. Steadying. True. </p>
<p>“Ready?” Eliott asks him, his voice quiet.</p>
<p>Lucas gives him a lopsided smile. “Always.”</p>
<p>And then he goes. </p>
<p>The first attempt is clumsy, and misses the mark, Eliott tripping over his own feet and nearly impaling Lucas in the arm.</p>
<p>“The goal is to <em> not </em> stab whoever you’re fighting,” Lucas says, laughing, the tension from earlier slowly ebbing away. “Just disarm.”</p>
<p>“Disarm…” Eliott replies, mirth coloring his face in beautiful rosy shades that catch in the golden light of the evening. “Be careful, because apparently I’m taking that literally.”</p>
<p>Lucas can’t help the laugh that bubbles up as he closes his eyes and shakes his head. “You’re terrible,” he says.</p>
<p>Eliott only shrugs. “You like me that way.”</p>
<p>“You wish,” Lucas replies, rolling his eyes to hide the way his heart climbs to his throat at Eliott’s words. </p>
<p>It’s not untrue, what Eliott says. It’s more that Lucas like the way Eliott is always and just a bit too much. He shakes the thought away.</p>
<p>“Try again,” he says.</p>
<p>It takes another three or four attempts before Eliott begins to understand the angle he needs to approach at and the speed and force he needs to get Lucas’ arm and sword where he wants them to force Lucas to drop it. And after that it takes a few more tries for him to figure out how to pull up his own weapon in time to stop Lucas from retrieving his own from the ground. But still, no matter how hard he tries, he can’t get Lucas pinned down – Lucas too fast in his own movements, and continually able to escape.</p>
<p>Lucas has to swallow down a giggle when Eliott groans in frustration again when Lucas sidesteps him to escape back toward the main deck again.</p>
<p>“How are you doing that?” he grumbles, letting his sword drop to his side. “You’re too quick.”</p>
<p>Lucas laughs. “It’s just practice,” he says, “and maybe the problem is you’re too slow.”</p>
<p>Eliott gives him an unimpressed look as he runs his fingers through his hair, messing it up even further. Lucas feels a tug in his chest as a sudden visceral need to run his own fingers through Eliott’s hair passes through his mind, but he pushes the thought away quickly and just watches Eliott’s face. It’s his thinking face, he realizes. The same one he wears when he’s charting a course or picking stars out of the sky.</p>
<p>“Oh, I’m too slow am I ?” Eliott asks him, reaching down to pick up his sword and handing it to him. “That seems unfair, given that you’ve been doing this far longer than me.”</p>
<p>“You’re the one who wanted to learn,” Lucas teases as Eliott takes a step forward, falling into his stance to begin the exercise.</p>
<p>“I did say that, didn’t I?” Eliott replies.</p>
<p>He takes a step toward Lucas, then another, as he extends his arm out and begins the maneuver, twisting Lucas’ arm as he holds his gaze.</p>
<p>“And you’ve been a very good teacher.” His voice has dropped low, lower than he normally speaks and his words fall like molasses, Lucas hanging off every one.</p>
<p>“Have I?” Lucas manages to get out. Eliott only smirks.</p>
<p>He makes another movement and Lucas feels his hand let go of his sword, Eliott taking a step forward into his space, never dropping his gaze. He’s close now – closer than he’s been all evening and Lucas feels his brain fill with his scent, intoxicating and confusing and all entirely Eliott. He feels sluggish suddenly, noting how Eliott’s eyes have turned a deep shade of green-gray, and then realizing half a second too late that that is really <em> not </em> what he should be focusing on right now.</p>
<p>“The <em> best </em>,” Eliott is saying. Eliott takes another step forward and Lucas takes a step back.</p>
<p>Only, he barely registers, he shouldn’t be taking a step back at all. He should be taking a step to the side, as Eliott regroups to bring his weapon back, not–</p>
<p>It only takes a second, maybe two, but then Lucas feels his back hit the wall, unaware that he’d moved back that much and notices Eliott is crowded around him, towering over him as Lucas glances down and sees the tip of Eliott’s sword pressing gently into his chest.</p>
<p>“Gotcha,” Eliott says and he tries to wink. Lucas barely remembers how to breathe. “What was it you told me that first day? Oh, yeah,” he whispers softly into Lucas’ ear. Lucas swallows harshly. “First rule. Don’t ever let yourself be distracted.”</p>
<p>Eliott pulls back and grins at him, looking rather proud of himself as Lucas stands helpless against the wall. Lucas exhales through his nose and smiles, shaking his head. </p>
<p>“I did say that, didn’t I?” he replies, raising his hands in mock surrender. He’s amazed that his brain is working at all right now. But it’s a chance. He’s going to take it. “Do you remember what else I said?”</p>
<p>Eliott raises an eyebrow at him. He looks like he wants to say something but Lucas doesn’t give him a chance. </p>
<p>Instead he reaches up, evading Eliott’s blade and invading his space, bringing his hands up to cup his cheeks and pulling his face down to meet his own.</p>
<p>Their lips meet somewhere in the middle.</p>
<p>It’s meant to be a quick press of lips, a moment only, but it’s enough. He feels Eliott collapse against him, and he reaches down, pulling the sword from Eliott’s grasp as he kisses him, and uses it as his own, getting the upper hand.</p>
<p>He breaks away from Eliott, his heart racing as he notices how Eliott chases his mouth, and brings the weapon up to Eliott’s chest.</p>
<p>“Rule number two,” Lucas says quietly, panting, “Never let your guard down, even for a second.”</p>
<p>Eliott just looks at him, his eyes searching his face as he stares, a smile spreading across his lips.</p>
<p>“Maybe so,” Eliott says, reaching out to take the sword from Lucas’ hand. Lucas lets him. He drops it to the floor. “But there’s always an exception.”</p>
<p>And Eliott crashes back into him, like a wave breaking against the shore.</p>
<p>***</p>
<p>Eliott pushes him up roughly against the wall, and kisses him so deeply all other thoughts fly out of Lucas’ head. Vaguely he thinks that they should probably move, seeing as they’re not exactly in a private area, but most of the ship has probably gone to bed by now anyway, and Eliott’s body feels so good pressed against his that any idea that involves their separation Lucas immediately writes off as impossible.</p>
<p>Lucas responds enthusiastically. What began as a simple press of lips has rapidly evolved into something else as Lucas tilts his head to the side, lips parting under Eliott’s as his tongue slips into his mouth.</p>
<p>It’s hot and exciting and Lucas can <em> feel </em>all of the places they’re pressed together, sparking his skin with a sort of white hot pleasure that makes him only want to pull Eliott closer. So he does. </p>
<p>His hands find Eliott’s waist and he grasps his hips, pulling him closer, connecting as Eliott licks into his mouth and pulling a half-strangled groan from Eliott’s lips. Lucas grins against Eliott’s mouth.</p>
<p>“Wait, wait,” Eliott says panting as he pulls away, and Lucas stops, tilting his head back against the wall, chest heaving, but his hand remaining gasped on Eliott’s hips.</p>
<p>“What’s wrong?” Lucas replies.</p>
<p>Eliott shakes his head. “God–” He gulps. “Nothing. Absolutely nothing is wrong. You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do this.” He grasps Lucas’s face in his hands and kisses him again, quick but toe-curling, pulling back again only enough so their foreheads remain connected. </p>
<p>“But as much as I’m enjoying this,” he whispers, sending a shiver down Lucas’ spine, “perhaps a very public area that anyone could happen upon is not the <em> best </em> place.”</p>
<p>Lucas whines. He actually <em> whines </em> as Eliott makes a move to pull away. He’d be embarrassed if he wasn’t so turned on right now. He’s grateful Eliott doesn’t seem to notice. Or maybe it doesn’t care. Or maybe he kind of likes it, if the filthy kiss he gives him just then is any indicator.</p>
<p>“Okay, okay,” Lucas pants, pulling away again, but just enough so that their lips aren’t touching. If Eliott really gets started kissing him again, he’s not sure he’ll be able to stop. “What exactly are you proposing?”</p>
<p>He’s not prepared for the lovely flush that bursts onto Eliott’s cheeks. It might be the loveliest thing he’s seen in quite awhile.</p>
<p>“Well, I have my cabin,” Eliott says softly, his voice moving from the gravel of before to something much sweeter, more hesitant. “But only if you want.”</p>
<p>Lucas laughs, pulling him in just enough to press a kiss to the place just below Eliott’s ear, feeling very pleased with himself at the involuntary way Eliott’s body jerks toward him.</p>
<p>“Of course I want to,” he replies. “Let’s go.”</p>
<p>They sneak through the quiet underbelly of the ship, fingertips brushing in a kind of quiet conspiracy as they sneak glances and stifle laughter, hoping that they won’t cross paths with anyone on the way. </p>
<p>They’ve picked up the weapons they had discarded so unceremoniously before and sheathed them, Eliott having enough wits about himself to gather them up before they left as to not alert the entire ship to what had occurred in there. Lucas, on the other hand, had been completely prepared to leave them behind. A noble sacrifice, in the name of getting Eliott as close to him as humanly possible and never letting go.</p>
<p>The only difficult moment is right when they approach Eliott’s cabin, knowing they’ll pass close by to where some of the others are still likely awake. But somehow, by some divine force that’s evidently on Lucas’ side tonight, they manage to avoid running into anyone. Lucas can’t help but laugh. He hasn’t felt so light in months.</p>
<p>“Shhh,” Eliott says, but he’s laughing too as he gently places his hand over Lucas’ mouth and roughly kicks open his door, hauling Lucas inside. It shouldn’t be as hot as it is. “You’re going to wake everyone up.”</p>
<p>“Big plans?” Lucas smirks.</p>
<p>Eliott rolls his eyes, feigning annoyance, but Lucas can see the smile at the corners of his mouth. “You’re insufferable.”</p>
<p>“I’m okay with that,” Lucas replies as he reaches up and reconnects their lips.</p>
<p>Their shirts drop to the ground in rapid succession and Lucas’ head is buzzing, so full of Eliott he can’t find it in himself to think of anything else. They’re still pressed up against Eliott’s door and Lucas pushes himself up and flips them around, pressing Eliott back against the wood. He pushes his thigh between Eliott’s legs and groans as Eliott grinds down on him and he can feel him half-hard against his hip.</p>
<p>Lucas kisses Eliott until he can’t breathe, overwhelmed by the feeling of him so close, the way his hands hold him together but can take him apart. How he stands, sure and strong, but gasping as Lucas takes the lead.</p>
<p>Eliott’s hands run down Lucas’ chest and Lucas can feel as he finds the compass there, tracing the chain with his fingertips. He looks up at Lucas with a question on his face and Lucas just shrugs.</p>
<p>“My mother gave it to me.”</p>
<p>Eliott nods like he understands.</p>
<p>Lucas pulls Eliott back to him, kissing under Eliott’s ear, down his jaw, his neck, his hands running up and down the skin of Eliott’s bare chest. He can feel Eliott’s heartbeat just below with his fingers, and he shivers as Eliott holds him.</p>
<p>Eliott’s hands find his waist again and Lucas sighs against his mouth as Eliott squeezes the skin there, pushing back slightly as he begins to walk Lucas toward his cot.</p>
<p>The back of Lucas’ knees hit the edge and he falls, pulling Eliott down on top of him and landing with an exaggerated grunt.</p>
<p>Eliott chuckles against his lips. “Graceful.”</p>
<p>“Not my fault,” Lucas laughs as he slides his body up the mattress, “you’re the one manhandling me.”</p>
<p>“That’s true,” Eliott says as he follows him, keeping his face close. “But you let me.”</p>
<p>Lucas has to kiss him again, deep and sure, the press of Eliott’s tongue in his mouth enough to make his head spin.</p>
<p>Eliott moves to straddle him, knees coming up to bracket Lucas’ hips and he grinds down, making both of them groan. </p>
<p>“Pants off,” Lucas says, a bit frantically, and Eliott only nods in agreement.</p>
<p>He pulls back just enough to shuck off his own pants, stumbling a bit as his leg gets caught. Lucas laughs and pulls him back to him, his hand running across the newly exposed skin. </p>
<p>Eliott is beautiful like this. His hair wild from Lucas’ fingers running through it, his eyes dark, his lips red and bitten and his breath sweet against Lucas’ mouth. Lucas can’t quite believe he gets to see him like this.</p>
<p>And then he feels Eliott find the waistband of his pants, fumbling with the buttons, and everything goes a bit hazy. If this night is all he gets, it’s probably more than he deserves.</p>
<p>Eliott kisses down his chest as he pulls Lucas’ pants off, their bare skin finally connecting and making Lucas swear as he arches back against the mattress. Eliott reaches his stomach with his mouth, biting there, and then continues down, pressing a kiss to the crease of Lucas’ hip and then biting down on the soft skin of his inner thigh.</p>
<p>Lucas is shaking with the effort to restrain his hips from bucking up. </p>
<p>“Eliott,” Lucas moans, his voice rough. “Please.”</p>
<p>Eliott looks up from where he’d been sucking a bruise into Lucas’ thigh. </p>
<p>“Oh did you want something else?” Eliott asks, biting back a smile.</p>
<p>But Lucas is going to lose it, already so overwhelmed. “Eliott,” he repeats, and his hips involuntarily thrust upward.</p>
<p>Eliott smirks but seems to take pity on him, repositioning himself between his thighs before he leans down and takes Lucas into his mouth. Lucas momentarily forgets how to breathe.</p>
<p>It doesn’t take long. Lucas can’t help but let out a long string of curses, his hands finding purchase in Eliott’s hair and against the wall above his bed. He tries to be quiet, but in the end he’s not sure if he’s managed it because everything has narrowed itself down to Eliott and the sight he makes between his thighs.</p>
<p>There’s a white hot fire building in his stomach as he arches back and he barely has time to warn Eliott before it washes over him, the world fading out and back in as he comes, Eliott working him through it. </p>
<p>Lucas closes his eyes and pulls Eliott to him, kissing the taste of himself off Eliott’s lips, and lets the waves crest over him.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>kudos and comments and theories are always very much appreciated! it's always nice to know that there are people reading what you write lol</p>
<p>you can also find me on tumblr if you want to chat <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a>! love y'all!!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Boreas: Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello everyone! so sorry for the delay on this. some things came up and I had to take a short break from writing, but I'm back now! as you may notice from the chapter title, I've decided to split this chapter in two: partly because I wanted to get something up earlier and partly because there's a pretty neat division in the sections of this chapter and it makes sense to have a break. </p>
<p>cw for mentions of death (of a parent) right after "you know I grew up with..." other than that this one should be fine!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Eliott</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The first thing Eliott notices when he wakes is the light, bright and golden as it filters through the porthole, the waves rocking him gently awake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The second is the cool expanse of the cot where another body should be next to him. His heart drops to his stomach. Of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He blinks his eyes open slowly and sees his clothes still strewn across the floor where he left them in their rush last night but Lucas’ are noticeably missing. His sword, too, has been retrieved from the corner. The space where he knows Lucas had been sleeping the night before is cool to the touch and Eliott wonders how long he’s been gone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He sighs and leans back against the pillows, shutting his eyes again. Maybe if he goes back to sleep he’ll wake up in a world where it doesn’t seem like Lucas has fled the scene before they’d even had a chance to talk. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>God, if he’d known he’d wake up to this, he might have insisted on it the night before, but Lucas had been so tired, his eyes drooping as Eliott held him close and Eliott had let it go, with a promise to himself that they’d speak about it in the morning.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you staying here?” Eliott whispers in Lucas’ ear as Lucas hides his face in Eliott’s neck, arms wrapped around his waist. They’ve shifted to the center of the cot, the small surface barely large enough to fit the both of them and even so, only if there is some part of them that’s intertwined – a perfect excuse to hold onto him. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Their breathing has quieted, both settled down a bit from their highs and cresting the waves of gentle exhaustion that often come after, only helped along by the warm press of their bodies against each other. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Are you asking me to leave?” Lucas whispers into his collarbone.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“No,” Eliott says quickly, tightening his grip around Lucas’ back, pressing a kiss to his temple.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>He doesn’t say that he’d prefer it if Lucas never left again. If they could stay, just the two of them, in this little cabin on this ship in the middle of the sea where they could be safe and happy like this always. The kind of peace he’s feeling is something he hasn’t felt in a while. And he knows it’s not permanent but it’s like every time he’s close to Lucas all of those thoughts in his head, all his worries about the ship and their pursuit and his father’s legacy, quiet down just a bit and he can breathe. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Stay,” he says.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Okay.”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>There’s more that Eliott should say, he knows. This whole night, as grateful as he is for it, was never something he planned. He’d known, of course, that he was attracted to Lucas. Had been since he saw him that first time in the tavern. And when he saw that blue coat and only thought of Lucas’ eyes maybe he let himself realize it was something more akin to a crush, but still. </span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>In the end it was all that time with the sword that did him in. The skill and deftness Lucas showed, plus honestly just the way his arms flexed as he went through the motions, there was no turning back. But Eliott isn’t complaining. Especially not now. Especially not when he gets to have this. This. He wants to ask what it is.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Lucas,” he says softly.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>It takes a moment for Lucas to reply, and Eliott can feel as he pulls himself from the edges of sleep to acknowledge him. “Hm?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>Eliott traces a finger down Lucas’ back, pressing his face into his hair. He smells like the ocean and the sun and like the both of them tangled up together.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>“Where do we go from here?”</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <em>
    <span>But Lucas doesn’t reply. He’s already fallen asleep.</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott pulls himself from bed, his mood tinted slightly gray at Lucas’ disappearance. But he’s not sure, yet, exactly what it means and tries his best to keep his swirling thoughts contained – breathe out, push it away. The sun is bright, even now in the early morning and the water is calm. It’s the kind of day they hope for out here, where the weather determines their progress more than anything else.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He pulls his trousers on, and his shirt, thin from use and wear from the salt water. He tucks it in loosely and runs his hand through his hair, picking up his compass and clicking it open once, twice, before shoving it into his pocket. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries to brush away the sourness that clings to him. It was a good night, if that’s all he gets, and he has a job to do. An important one, he reminds himself. One that has everyone counting on him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s just not quite sure how Lucas expects him to act now. Or how he even plans to act. In hindsight, he really hadn’t thought about it. When Lucas kissed him it set something off inside of him that felt like falling into place and he hadn’t really managed to think much past that before they were suddenly in his cabin and he was pressing Lucas into the mattress.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His father always did say he was impulsive.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He slips out of his room and into the empty hallway. He knows it can’t be too late, from the angle of the sun into his window, but it’s still rather quiet below deck – more so than he’s used to. Then again, he’s used to hours of fitful slumber and rising before dawn, so the full night of sleep he got last night might be throwing him off. He blinks, trying not to dwell on why he slept so well in the first place. But Lucas and the feeling of him on his chest comes back to him in flashes anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He climbs the stairs little by little and makes his way out onto the deck. Most of the crew is already up, going about their morning duties or chewing on the bits of biscuits they’ve been mostly living off of recently. Not Basile’s fault, of course, just a result of waning rations. It’s something they’ll have to remedy soon – either intercept a ship that’s just left port or go into port themselves. But that’s Sofiane’s job to worry about that, and Eliott trusts him enough to let that be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Eliott sees him, Lucas, leaning against one of the masts talking to Yann. Eliott doesn’t mean to let his gaze linger, but he can’t help it and soon enough Lucas looks up. Their eyes meet, there across the deck like they have so many times before, but now it feels different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott means to look away quickly, afraid of what he might find there, afraid to be met with irritation or apathy. But instead Lucas’ face breaks into a wide grin, so sweet Eliott’s heart jumps in his chest, and he can’t help but smile back. His heart races but his worries settle, even just for a moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He shouldn’t expect anything less from himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas jumps up then, onto the base of the mast, holding onto the rope and raising his hand in greeting. Standing there, swinging from the ropes, Lucas’ smile shines brighter still and Eliott can’t help the light that bubbles up in his chest and travels directly to his heart. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, he thinks. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Beautiful</span>
  </em>
  <span>. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He goes to make his way over to Lucas when Imane stops him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can we talk for a moment?” she asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Eliott longer than it should to bring himself down again and he blinks at her, trying to register what she’s said. But he sees her face, serious, her jaw set tight and he knows it must be something important.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure,” he says. He takes another look back at Lucas who’s watching him with bright eyes and a question on his face, and lets Imane lead him into her office.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>“Can you take a look at this?” Imane asks him, gesturing to a chart on the desk, the ink faded, the corners tattered. Eliott recognizes it as one of the ones he stole from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso</span>
  </em>
  <span>, something puzzling and strange about it that had pulled his interest in the first place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane must have noticed it too.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you see?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane purses her lips and pulls out another map, draping it down on the desk next to the other one, pointing out the same spot on each map. Only, they don’t look exactly the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Here,” she says. “I was looking at some of the old trade routes, comparing tracks where we might be able to intercept a ship with provisions when I noticed this. And I wanted to know if you thought it meant anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The map from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Calypso </span>
  </em>
  <span>is older, drawn more in the style of the elaborate works of art meant to hang on a wall more than be used for any real nautical navigation. But it’s interesting, what she’s pointing to, and he wonders that he hadn’t noticed it before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>On the newer map, the one they’ve used for several months now is empty where Imane’s finger is pointing to but the older map shows something there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s an illustration, he knows, done up in an overly artistic style that tells of sea monsters and epic battle with the sea gods and sirens, but there’s something there all the same – what looks like a small island, surrounded by a whirlpool and a serpent with razor sharp teeth. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“An island,” Eliott says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane nods, pulling out other maps and showing them to Eliott as well. “I’ve checked the other ones too and none of them show anything there, so I was ready to write it off as a made-up addition by an artist who’s clearly never been on the sea, or at least sailed around here, but I wanted your opinion.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s probably nothing,” Eliott says, pulling the chart toward him and tracing the shape with his finger. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He tries to think about the area but comes up blank. It’s in the middle of the sea, in a stretch of water that continues on for hundreds of miles, but Eliott’s never seen an island like that before. And on top of that he’s never heard of one and sailors are notorious oversharers and storytellers. And yet– </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We took it from one of Richelieu’s ships though,” he says, looking up at Imane. “And we know the kind of secrets he’s tried to keep. I’m just not sure why he’d have one of his captains hold on to a worthless or inaccurate map unless there was a reason.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s true.” Imane clenches her jaw and stares down, her eyes fixed on a point far beyond the table.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott knows that look, it’s the one that comes whenever she’s unsure, or scared of making the wrong decision. She may have a tough exterior, but Eliott’s always known her as someone who cares fiercely about the people around her and tries to make their lives better any way she can. There’s not too many people she lets see that side of her though.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does Sofiane think?’</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane stops and whips her head up, looking at him with wide eyes. “What’s that supposed to mean?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott can’t help but chuckle, taking a step back with his arms raised. “Nothing!” he says. “Nothing, I promise. I just know you trust him. And I do too. That’s all.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry,” Imane laughs, relaxing. “I’m just so used to Idriss teasing me all the time I get a bit defensive.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I wouldn’t go so far as to say I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>not</span>
  </em>
  <span> teasing you,” Eliott jokes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane groans. “You’re so annoying sometimes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’ve heard,” Eliott replies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane just shakes her head. “Well if you </span>
  <em>
    <span>must</span>
  </em>
  <span> know, Sofiane thinks it’s probably just artistic license. Said we should keep focusing on collecting the pieces of the map that we’re pretty sure might lead to somewhere.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Very logical.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott sighs, taking another look at the map. “I get it though. It won’t do us much good to go chasing after phantoms when we’re already chasing after a legend.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re right.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott gasps, a bit exaggerated. “I’m </span>
  <em>
    <span>what</span>
  </em>
  <span>? I’m sorry Captain, I didn’t hear you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane rolls her eyes. “See? Annoying.” But then she sighs, walking back to lean against the window sill that looks out onto the rolling waves behind them. “But you know what that means then? Chasing the legend. What we have to do next?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods, solemn and small. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” he says, after a moment. “We have to go after Munier.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>He goes then, with a promise to discuss their plans involving Munier in the coming weeks. It will be tricky, especially since the only ones who really know </span>
  <em>
    <span>everything</span>
  </em>
  <span> are Imane, Idriss, Sofiane and himself, but they can make it work.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s daunting, the prospect of going after him, especially knowing all they could lose. But there’s also all they could gain, and those pieces of himself he’s been chasing for years, maybe they’ll come back as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When he steps back out on deck though, his more immediate problem overtakes his mind again – Lucas. He’d wanted to go over to him the minute their eyes met but had been obviously intercepted. Now, though, he’s in the clear.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But when he gets back out on deck, Lucas is no longer there. Much of the crew is still out and about going about their duties, helping the ship run, but Lucas has somehow disappeared – perhaps below deck to escape the sun. It shouldn’t matter so much to him where Lucas went, but he can’t help but wonder anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a step closer to the stairs leading up to the helm when he feels a hand close around his wrist. He jumps at the sudden contact, but then feels himself being pulled into the dark corner under the stairs, hidden from view, to stand in front of Lucas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Lucas says shyly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott stares at him for a moment, confused. It’s not exactly the interaction he’d been expecting.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi…” He doesn’t mean for it to sound like a question, but it does in a way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then Lucas rises up, grasping Eliott’s face in his hands and kisses him firmly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott melts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sorry about not being there when you woke up,” Lucas murmurs. “I promised Yann that I’d help him with the sails this morning and then I didn’t want everyone waking up below deck and realizing that I hadn’t slept down there last night and I wanted to tell you but you were sleeping so peacefully, so I just let you be.” He pauses, looking at Eliott. Something must betray him on his face though because Lucas adds, “You weren’t upset were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott blinks. He’s not quite used to someone reading him like that. He’s a little surprised  – though maybe he shouldn’t be – to find that it’s not entirely unwelcome.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Eliott says quickly, but then he backtracks. “Or, I wasn’t upset really, just a little confused. I wasn’t sure if it was your way of telling me it was a one-time thing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s Lucas’ turn to look caught off guard. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” he whispers, reaching out to thumb at Eliott’s hips. “That wasn’t what I meant at all. Unless you…” He trails off, his head tilting back just slightly as he looks up at Eliott, unsure.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“God, no,” Eliott hums, brushing his fingers across Lucas’ cheeks before cupping his face in his hands. “I’d be very happy to do that again.” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas giggles, actually giggles, and Eliott feels like he might faint. It’s so disarming, the way Lucas can switch from tough and intimidating to sweet and soft in the span of one breath.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“For the record, so would I,” Lucas says softly, rubbing their noses together. His hands tighten on Eliott’s hips.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The urge to kiss him is suddenly overwhelming, and Eliott can’t help it, even if they are only tucked away in a corner of the deck, where anyone could stumble on them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So he does.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s meant to be quick and sweet but just like before they immediately fall into each other, Eliott pulling Lucas close. And Eliott can’t help but smile into it, grateful to have Lucas in his arms again as he wraps his arms around his neck and kisses him deeper.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He briefly forgets where they are at all until Lucas groans against his lips and pulls back, resting his forehead against Eliott’s.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“As nice as this is,” he whispers, “I think we both have jobs we’re supposed to be doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott frowns. Theoretically he knows Lucas is right, but this is so much better than calculating speeds and trajectories and sail angles. He doesn’t answer, instead trying to lean back in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas stops him again. “If you let me do my work now, then we’ll have time for another lesson tonight.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” That makes Eliott stop. He narrows his eyes at Lucas. As nice as it was learning all those maneuvers and everything, he can’t help but be a little insulted that </span>
  <em>
    <span>that’s</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Lucas is thinking about right now and– </span>
  <em>
    <span>oh</span>
  </em>
  <span>.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes him longer than it probably should to catch up judging by the smirk on Lucas’ face, but he gets there in the end, which is the most important thing, really. Sword lessons – so that’s what they’re calling it now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I would like that,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas smiles. “Good. Now let me go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“In a minute,” Eliott replies, laughing. “Give me one more for the road.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas rolls his eyes but obliges, kissing him deep and slow. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And the ocean, a sometimes forgotten guardian of lovers, takes their words and carries them away, hiding them for just a little longer.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The day, gratefully, passes quickly. He doesn’t see Lucas much, their paths not often crossed when Eliott spends most of his time at the helm working with Arthur or Idriss and Lucas is mostly below deck cleaning out storage rooms. He doesn’t envy him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But every time Lucas does end up on deck, Eliott’s eyes just seem to gravitate toward him. It’s like his body knows he’s near before his eyes catch up, in tune in the way that comes with the intoxicating excitement of something new.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knows Idriss had noticed recently when they were nothing more than longing glances. Enough, in fact, that he’d pulled Eliott aside and asked him what was going on. At the time Eliott had told him nothing, because it was true, no matter how much he wished it wasn’t. Now though, he wonders if he’s noticed the change. He wants to ask Idriss, wants to see what he thinks, talk about it like they have so many times before, but he’s scared of what he might say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s early afternoon when he breaks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott and Idriss are up at the helm, going over their procedures should another storm roll in when Lucas follows Daphne up on deck. He stops, eyes bright, bursts of sunlight coloring his cheeks and Eliott nearly swoons. Nearly. He’s tougher than that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But what he does do is go silent, his mind called off to where Lucas looks up at him and smiles wide. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think I want to tell him,” Eliott says softly, out of the blue, making Idriss put down the papers he’d been holding to look at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes Idriss a minute, and following Eliott’s line of sight to Lucas below to figure out what he means. But he does, and claps Eliott gently on the shoulder.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about?” he asks. But it’s a kindness – he already knows what Eliott is going to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just a little. About me. About Richelieu. About our fathers.” He rips his eyes away from Lucas and turns to Idriss, taking in his expression. There’s a small smile at the corners of his mouth as he looks between them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I trust him,” Eliott explains. Because he feels it, deep and unexplainable, the way Lucas’ bright eyes and open face had made him trust him, had made him fall almost instantly. “And I want him to know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s a good thing right?” Idriss leans against the banister next to Eliott.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yeah.” He nods, but he can’t help the smile that breaks through.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something flashes across Idriss’ face at that and then he lets out a loud laugh.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Seriously?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You finally slept with him?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott feels his face go red. “What?” he sputters. “No!” His hands coming together as he fidgets with his shirt. One, he remembers suddenly, with a missing button from where Lucas had roughly pulled it off only last night. An objectively unhelpful thought at this moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Idriss just raises an eyebrow, blatantly ignoring his denial. “I think we all knew it was coming though, so don’t worry too much. I’m just surprised you finally made a move,” he says.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott swallows. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Ah, Lucas made the first move?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It was more of a team effort,” Eliott says weakly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well I should hope so,” Idriss replies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott can only shrug, feeling the tops of his cheeks burning pink. Idriss just laughs, clearly delighted at having figured it all out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Just...don’t tell anyone else,” Eliott laughs, a little embarrassed. “I’m not sure if he’s comfortable with other people knowing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Of course. I won’t,” Idriss says quickly. He pauses for a moment before he goes on, “I’m happy for you, you know. It’s just...he really means that much to you? That you’d trust him with this?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott hardly hears the words before he’s nodding. “Yes,” he replies. “Yes, of course. I’d trust him with anything.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hm,” Idriss sighs, turning toward the back of the ship to watch the sea they’re leaving in their wake. “Just be sure he feels the same about you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott excuses himself from the normally lazing about on the deck after dinner early that night, hoping Lucas takes the hint. He sees Idriss raise an eyebrow at him and smirk, but he doesn’t say anything and Eliott, truly, doesn’t feel any shame at being caught.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a few minutes for Lucas to follow him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>In that time Eliott has shoved a variety of items into the trunk in the corner, straightened out all four corners of the thin blanket that covers his cot and tucked and untucked his shirt maybe twenty times. He doesn’t want to be presumptuous. He’s not sure why he’s so nervous, but there’s an element to this now that there hasn’t really been before – the anticipation, knowing what’s to come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When Lucas finally knocks on his door, quiet and gentle as to not draw attention, Eliott’s heart leaps into his throat but he finds himself beaming anyway as he throws open the door.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hi,” Lucas whispers, and Eliott grabs him by the elbow and hauls him inside.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They start off just as enthusiastic as the night before, kissing and shedding their shirts moments after the door closes. But then it turns into something slower, softer, and soon enough they’re just laying on Eliott’s cot, legs entangled, as they kiss lazy and deep. It settles from there too, until they’re resting instead with their foreheads pressed together.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Can I ask you something?” Lucas whispers, playing with Eliott’s fingers as they lie together in Eliott’s cot.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Sure.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What’s the real reason you became a pirate?” he asks, running his nose along Eliott’s cheek. “I know we all joke about the freedom and the money but it’s not easy. And you said before that you didn’t have a choice, so I don’t know, I was just wondering what that meant.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That almost prompts a laugh out of Eliott at how aligned their thoughts must be that Lucas should bring it up now, like this. But he likes it, likes that they’re learning more about each other, that they </span>
  <em>
    <span>want</span>
  </em>
  <span> to learn more.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s kind of a sad story,” he warns.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas leans in close, kissing the tip of his nose. “I don’t mind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But still something swirls in Eliott’s gut, nervous at the thought of exposing something so personal, something he’s kept close for all these years and doesn’t normally share. He untangles himself from Lucas and sits up, crossing his legs and leaning against the wall.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas sits up next to him, the space in between his eyebrows pinched in concern. He reaches out toward him, but stops himself at the last minute, clearly wanting Eliott to take the lead. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott takes a deep breath, steadying himself. “I’ve been wanting to tell you some things anyway,” he says finally. “It’s probably easier to just explain everything all at once.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay.” Lucas says, but stays where he is, perched on the corner of the cot. “I’m listening.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You know I grew up with Imane and Idriss,” Eliott begins, his voice quiet. “And that my mother died when I was young. But my father… He worked on a ship – helped navigate actually – with Idriss and Imane’s father. After my mother died I spent a lot of time at their house when my father would be away for months at sea, which is how I got to know them so well. We spent all our time together and their mom was family to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up at Lucas who nods, encouraging him. It’s still not easy to talk about, even after all this time, but he wants to explain how he got here, how he ended up here in the first place and help Lucas understand, when the time comes, where they have to go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Our fathers worked on a merchant ship. One of Richelieu’s ships,” he pauses, gauging Lucas’ reaction knowing that he’s familiar with Richelieu’s reputation. But Lucas just clenches his jaw and scoots closer, grabbing Eliott’s hand and pulling it into his lap, before urging him to go on. “When I was 16, our fathers left on a trip along one of the trade routes. They were supposed to be gone a few months but they never came back. Apparently their ship had been caught in a storm and…” he trails off, the corners of his eyes growing wet. “And the thing is, as devastating as that was for us, it wasn’t entirely unexpected. The sea is dangerous and we knew that. Our fathers knew that. Especially growing up in a port city, you hear of people losing someone to the ocean all the time. But what made it worse was Richelieu.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hears Lucas let out a sharp exhale, holding onto his hand tighter. It’s not how he imagined this night would go at all really, but it feels good to talk about it all the same.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Our fathers made most of our money. It wasn’t a lot, but it was something. And when they died, it was made worse by the fact that suddenly we had no more income either. But one of the things about Richelieu’s ships, one of the things that made employment for him more attractive was that he’d promised a payment to the families of people who were lost on his ships. But when we tried to collect on it, he refused to pay, saying that it must have been the sailor’s fault, that he didn’t pay out for incompetence. And no matter what we tried, we couldn’t get any money from him. And somewhere in that year after, Imane and Idriss’ mother got sick and when she died we ended up on our own. We tried to get jobs when we could but none of them really stuck, for a variety of reasons. So when we were offered a job on a pirate ship that didn’t care about anything beyond that you were willing to work and offered a place to sleep and food,” he pauses, “we had to take it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas looks at him with wide eyes, and Eliott can’t be sure what he’s seeing there. Concern, perhaps, but the kind that someone tries to mask until they determine the appropriate emotion. Or perhaps something else entirely. It’s unsettling, in a way, that Eliott can’t place the shape on Lucas’ face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So when you asked me before about Richelieu, I wasn’t entirely truthful. It’s a bit more personal than that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He takes a deep breath and takes his hand from Lucas’ grasp, bringing it up instead to rub at his lip. He isn’t sure what else to say, bated breath waiting for Lucas’ reaction. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So that’s why you go after his ships?” Lucas asks quietly after a while, his voice small in the night. “Revenge?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott hears the hardness that laces Lucas’ tone. Perhaps it’s surprising to him, after the way they’ve been getting to know each other that Eliott could be like this. And it’s true that without the map, without that piece his father sent him being the last piece of him he ever received, that maybe Eliott could have let this go long ago. But when Imane and Idriss and him were left with nothing, and they knew that Richelieu had </span>
  <em>
    <span>something</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it was too much to let that pass by. Too much to throw away the gift his father had given him. It’s not something he’s willing to give up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you think less of me?” Eliott asks him tentatively, wanting only to grab Lucas’ hand and hold it to steady the racing of his heart. But he refrains.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas looks at him, his eyes still bright as ever, and his gaze softens as he sighs and reaches for Eliott’s hand again himself. “No,” he breathes. “No, I could never. It’s just–” he pauses, bringing Eliott’s hand up to his lips where he presses a soft kiss to his knuckles. “I’m angry you had to go through that,” he says. “I wish you never had to bear that kind of burden.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott’s breath leaves him for a moment and he feels the first tear roll down his cheek. Somehow in the space of all that he’s divulged, Lucas had taken a look at it and found where the weight was heavy and tried to take some of it as well. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leans in and kisses Lucas softly, not caring that his face is wet, or that his hands are trembling. Lucas kisses him back and then he pulls back, taking the hand not holding Eliott’s and bringing it up to wipe the tears from Eliott’s cheek. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“There are things that I want to tell you too,” Lucas whispers into the space between them, “But I’m not sure that I can’t yet. And–” he pauses, his hand trembling, “I’m afraid if you knew everything about me you wouldn’t want me anymore.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Tell me when you’re ready,” Eliott replies, aware of the kind of time it can take to feel unraveled enough to explain yourself in a way that lets you be seen. Even with all he’s divulged, it’s still not everything. It takes time, and if he wants it from Lucas, he has to give it to him as well. “But I doubt there’s anything you could say that could make me not want you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They take it slow after that, the franticness of that first night behind them. It’s the safety, really, in knowing that the other person wants to be there just as much as you do, that you aren’t alone in how you’re feeling. It’s the stability in not worrying that the other person might change their mind and walk away. It's not having to do everything because you know it isn’t the last time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And it’s slow and sweet and raw and as Eliott feels the way Lucas responds to him, the way he arches up under his touch, the way he gasps out his name into his neck and something deep within him twists in pleasure and relief. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s something more raw and deep than he ever expected. The soft touch of fingertips smoothing away the raw margins of a history laid bare.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the soft light of morning, everything loses its edges. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott blinks his eyes open slowly, the first rays of sunlight falling through the porthole and turning the room the faintest shade of ochre. And there, just in front of him, is a mess of brown hair spread out across his pillow, Lucas’ face turned away from him, his back pressed against Eliott’s chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott can just make out a few freckles on Lucas’ shoulder and he’s overcome with the urge to lean down and press his lips to the spot and then continue the trail along his neck, below his ear, across his jaw, until he can finally kiss him again. His heart surges as Lucas takes a deep breath in his sleep and seems to settle in closer, shifting slightly so his head falls back just a bit. Eliott tightens his arm around Lucas’ waist and tries to imagine the way his eyes will look in the low light, his skin lit golden, his face flushed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Good morning,” Lucas murmurs into the pillow as he’s pulled from sleep, shivering as Eliott kisses the back of his neck softly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Morning,” Eliott says quietly. And then, “You’re here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What? I hadn’t realized.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t be rude.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas turns over and Eliott tries to keep the fake frown on his face but he quickly gives in when Lucas rolls his eyes and then tilts his head up for a kiss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Won’t everyone notice that you’re gone though?” Eliott asks him when he pulls back.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas shrugs as best he can in Eliott’s arms, tucking his head under his chin. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let them notice,” he says. “I mean, we don’t have to go around and tell every single member of the crew but, I don’t know, do you think they’d care? Because, well, it’s you and me?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks small like this, quiet and tentative and it somehow hadn’t even occurred to Eliott that that might be on his mind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh, no,” he says quickly, “they wouldn’t care. I think you’d find there’s, uh, more people like us than you’d expect.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas raises an eyebrow at him. “Really?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think you have not been paying close enough attention,” Eliott laughs, running a hand down Lucas’ arm. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, who?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m not telling you that. Figure it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eliott!”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re both just laughing now, the seriousness of the night before dissipated, but stored away in the knowledge that they know each other a little better now. So Eliott leans in and kisses him, and lets that golden feeling wash over him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>In the weeks that follow, it’s easy to push aside the heaviness that comes with any thoughts about Richelieu or Munier. His days are a whirlwind of the sun, the ocean spray and Lucas, who’s taken up residence on his cot with him. Eliott doesn’t mind, even if it’s hotter in his cabin than normal because of it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott finds time too, to spend more time with the rest of the crew. It was daunting at first, feeling like a bit of an outsider in a crew that had been recruited by everyone else, but Lucas is eager to include him, makes him sit with them at meals and learn how to do “real work” on the ship. (Lucas likes to tease him about it sometimes, how he hardly ever has to wrestle a sail in the wind or even how, despite his improvement, the sword never looks comfortable in his hands, but then, at night, he’ll curl into Eliott’s side as he annotates his charts or calculates speed and direction and tell him how beautiful and smart he is, so it all makes up for it.)</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And so, even if they don’t have a name for it, Eliott finds his heart is so full it threatens to fight his way out of his chest.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But, as he should be able to recognize, it’s just the calm before the storm.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Imane pulls them all aside one evening after a short and clean raid on a small supply ship – him, Idriss and Sofiane – and the look on her face is enough to tell him where this conversation is going.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When they all finally gather in Imane’s office, the tune is exceedingly more somber. The high from the past weeks and their successful raid doesn’t follow them here where they know what’s to come.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Outside the room Eliott can hear a loud laugh and a breaking bottle, the crew gleeful and unaware of the risk that awaits them. He finds himself wondering if Lucas has joined in, if his face has broken into that wide and vibrant smile. He wonders what that face would look like if he knew what they were discussing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“So,” Imane says, breaking the silence. “Munier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Munier,” Idriss repeats. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s really our only option?’ Eliott finds himself asking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane sighs. “It’s not our </span>
  <em>
    <span>only</span>
  </em>
  <span> option but I think it’s our best one.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sofiane gives a solemn nod in agreement. “Technically we could keep searching, but the map is nearly complete as it is and at least we know Charles has something on his ship.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do we have any idea where he’s going to be?” Idriss asks.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No,” Eliott replies, looking up at Imane. “But we know someone who does.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane takes a deep breath, her discomfort clear on her face. “I don’t want to get her involved if we don’t have to but…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We kind of have to,” Idriss finishes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I really don’t think Manon will mind,” Eliott says, but he gets it. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Manon’s been a friend to them since before the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> even came into their possession, before they were calling the shots and running around on dangerous treasure hunts. And Munier, he’s dangerous too, no matter how much he might have a fondness for her. If he caught wind of all the information she’s been passing to them all this time, Eliott shudders to think what he might do. But she’s always been aware of the risks and willing to lend a hand anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It doesn’t hurt to ask,” Sofiane says quietly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, you’re right, it doesn’t,” Imane replies.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And just like that it’s settled.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What will we tell the rest of the crew?” Idriss asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Sofiane shrugs. “I don’t think it matters really. Just a routine stop at port? But we’ll have to figure something out eventually if we want them to go after Munier with us. It has to pass a vote.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That’s not something we need to worry about yet,” Imane interjects. “Let’s just find Munier first.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They’re quiet, briefly, but they know she’s right. They hadn’t brought the rest of the crew in before because they didn’t want to get hopes up and have it turn out to be nothing. But they’re close now and the next step will likely be risky, so they’ll have to explain soon. But not yet. Now they need to plan and regroup.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Eliott says, clapping his hands together. “To Tortuga?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“To Tortuga,” Imane repeats.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It sounds simple, really, and it should be. But the past has a way of catching up even long after you’d thought you’d outrun it.</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you so much for reading! kudos and comments are very much appreciated!</p>
<p>and, as always, you can find me on tumblr if you want to chat <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a>!</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Boreas: Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>and here's the second part and we're in Tortuga! hope you all enjoy!!</p><p>cw for mentions of death and discussions of mental illness (also I use a little terminology that isn't quite correct because of the time period, so warning for that as well). that all starts with the sentence: "And then he pauses, breathing deep, as he talks about the part he normally leaves out."</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Lucas </em>
</p><p>The problem with hidden things is the way they refuse to be forgotten.</p><p>It’s what Lucas thinks every time he notices the pull on the chain around his neck, every time his mother’s compass falls against his sternum. </p><p>It was easier before – <em> before Eliott </em> – to brush it off as inconsequential, an ugly facet of life that should, in most ways, never resurface. It’s in the becoming, that things get left behind, that history is rewritten. When you run there are inevitably pieces of your former self that stay in the space you’ve just come from and the you that emerges on the other side is just that – your self <em> transformed </em>. </p><p>And yet– </p><p>And yet.</p><p>Knowing what he knows about Eliott changes things. Maybe. There’s a part of him that’s just bewildered that anyone would ever trust him with something like that, laying bare some parts of themselves they’d normally rather not talk about just for him. It makes him want to do the same. But circumstances are everything.</p><p>The thing about Eliott’s eyes is that they refuse to commit to just one color. In some lights they look grey, like the clouds that put a worried crease in his forehead when they’re out at sea. Most times they’re tinted blue, like in sunlight or when he throws back his head and laughs. And other times, the rarest times, in low light or when Lucas presses a sharp kiss to the side of his neck, they swirl just slightly green. It’s mesmerizing, watching the transformation. </p><p>But they’ve always, no matter the color, looked at Lucas with a gentle quiet kindness. It’s in them that Lucas finds the truth of him, the truth of his feelings and what he means when he laughs into Lucas’ mouth and presses him up against walls to kiss him hot and deep and when he holds him and tells him that he wants him.</p><p>He wonders what Eliott sees in his own eyes.</p><p>He’s sitting on a wide stretch of banister near the middle of the ship, chin resting on one knee pulled up, his other leg dangling down in a pose he’s become rather well-known for on the ship, waiting for Eliott to be done with whatever meeting he’d been pulled into with the <em> Black Rose’ </em>s officers. His eyes fixed on some place that doesn’t really exist out in the middle of the water and he doesn’t realize his mind has drifted until Yann appears on his left, nonchalantly sipping something out of a cloudy brown bottle Lucas is sure he found in the stores.</p><p>He takes a sip and grimaces and then holds the bottle out to Lucas who shakes his head no. Yann just shrugs and takes another, apparently yile, sip.</p><p>“That bad?” Lucas asks, laughing at his pained expression.</p><p>“It’s not great,” Yann admits, “but it’s all we have left.”</p><p>Lucas nods in understanding, eyes drifting back toward the closed door of the Captain’s office where he knows Eliott is talking about god knows what. He doesn’t even mean to, already an unconscious action in his body, but it’s like something just under the surface of his skin that itches to be close to Eliott when he can. It’s not something he’s ever experienced before. But it’s also not something he’s willing to question.</p><p>To Yann’s credit, he notices, raising an eyebrow at Lucas and waiting for his eyes to drift back to where he’s standing. “Looking for someone?” he asks knowingly and Lucas can’t help the blush that starts underneath his collar.</p><p>“Maybe,” Lucas says petulantly. </p><p>Yann only smiles. “Sure,” he says.</p><p>Yann had been the first – and actually only – other person on the ship he’d talked to about Eliott. It’s just that even though he’s been a part of the crew now for a few months, he still sometimes feels a bit like a stranger. It’s something he knows he’s holding onto – keeping people at arm’s length. It used to be a way to keep himself safe, something he’d told himself he’d always have to do. There had been little breakages here and there with Yann, Manon, Mika, but now – with Eliott – it’s something so strange and wild and he’s scared to get left behind but he can’t help holding on. He’s amazed at how he’s just fallen into it, whatever they are. How Eliott had looked at him, kissed him, and he was ready to leave behind all the precautions he’d so meticulously set into place.</p><p>And yet, it’s still so easy in all the ways Lucas hadn’t been expecting. He smiles when he thinks about it. </p><p>“So those, uh, lessons, you’ve been giving him...they’re going well I take it?” Yann asks him, biting his lip as he tries not to laugh.</p><p>Lucas shoves his shoulder. “Shut up.”</p><p>“What? I’m just asking.”</p><p>“You know what.”</p><p>Yann sighs and leans into him, his head falling against his shoulder. “It’s going well though? He’s, uh, treating you properly?”</p><p>A thousand dirty jokes run through Lucas’ head at that, but he swallows them down, instead laughing lightly. “Yes,” he says simply. “Yes.”</p><p>Yann is quiet for a moment, as they both look out as the waves roll past them. Lucas hears him take a deep breath.</p><p>“Are you going to tell him?”</p><p>Lucas can’t help that he stiffens, his heart immediately picking up the pace. He knows what Yann means, the story he’d told him when they literally run into each other in New Providence. When Yann had been running from the stall he’d nicked some food from and Lucas had been running from– well, they still had a vague idea where he was then. Even that, what he’d told Yann wasn’t the whole truth. The whole truth was dangerous and made him vulnerable. But even those half-truths that he’d blended together made Yann think he should say something, and he knows, he knows he should. But that little voice that desperately doesn’t want to ruin a good thing keeps holding back. </p><p>Lucas takes a deep breath. “I will,” he says finally, “when I’m ready.”</p><p>Yann picks up his head and looks at Lucas, really looks at him. “It will be okay, you know? He will understand.”</p><p>“I hope so,” Lucas whispers, but his words are picked up by the sea breeze and blown away.</p><p>He hadn’t been paying attention to what was happening around him, and he suddenly he feels a soft touch at his shoulder, jumping at the contact.</p><p>He hears a soft laugh behind him.</p><p>“I did it again,” Eliott whispers in his ear, sending a shiver down his spine. He knows the smile on his face must give away his heart.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Startled you.”</p><p>Lucas knows he’s blushing but he chooses to ignore it, instead rolling his eyes as he turns toward Eliott, leaning into him.</p><p>“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucas says. </p><p>“Sure.”</p><p>Lucas wants to lean in and kiss him then, but he stops himself, both because they’re right on the deck with the entire crew scattered around them and because of the knot that twists in his gut, just a little. Not because of the thought of everyone else knowing – if he’s being honest it’s obvious to everyone who’s paying attention – but because for now it’s new and it’s theirs and because the way he twists is enough for the compass to brush against his chest.</p><p>He breathes, pushes the thoughts away. </p><p>“And that’s my cue to leave,” Yann says jovially, pushing himself up from where he’s leaning against the banister. “Nice to see you Eliott.” He winks at Lucas as he wanders over to where Arthur and Emma are sitting.</p><p>Eliott nods at him, eyes sparkling with a quiet laugh.</p><p>“How did your meeting go?” Lucas asks, trying to relax into the gentleness of it, the coolness of the evening.</p><p>Eliott shrugs. “Well I think. We figured out what we’re doing next.”</p><p>“Oh?” Lucas asks, raising his eyebrow. “And what have you decided?”</p><p>Eliott pauses and looks at Lucas, something briefly flashing across his face before it’s gone again. “Back to Tortuga,” he whispers.</p><p>“Tortuga?” That’s something new. The excitement at the thought of returning to a place he’s been before, seeing people who’ve known him. “You need to talk to Manon?”</p><p>Eliott nods. “And stock up on a few things.” His fingers find Lucas’ on the banister, brush across them softly. “I’ll change course in a minute, after Imane tells everyone else. We should be there for a day or two.”</p><p>“Hm exciting,” Lucas teases, but it is in a way.</p><p>Eliott leans in close. “I think you’ll find so.” He pauses, looking at Lucas with a glimmer in his eye. “The thing about Tortuga is it’s not a ship and there’s more space and a hell of a lot of privacy…”</p><p>Lucas’ breath hitches. Oh, and in that way too.</p><p>Eliott smirks, apparently well aware of what he’s doing to Lucas and then looks around at the scattered crew sitting around them.</p><p>“Hey can you show me that, uh, other stance you were talking about?” Eliott says, a little louder than necessary, making a few people glance toward them.</p><p>Lucas rolls his eyes, the corner of his mouth picking up. </p><p>“That new stance?”</p><p>Eliott nods. “Yeah, uh,” he swallows, “you know the one where you uh….” he trails off, looking a little desperately at Lucas. Lucas bites back a laugh. His practical skill with a sword has gotten better, but apparently he’s still at a loss for technical terms. Or for making up excuses to disappear.</p><p>If he wasn’t just as interested in getting alone with Eliott he might have let him struggle a little longer, but as it is… “Oh, right! That stance.”</p><p>Eliott nods hurriedly. </p><p>“Yeah, I can show it to you,” Lucas says, standing up and gently touching Eliott’s elbow, nudging him toward the ladder. “Uh, let’s go.”</p><p>He catches Yann’s eye as they make their way across the deck. He shakes his head, rolling his eyes but he smiles too, and Lucas can almost hear him say it again. <em> You deserve it </em>.</p><p>He deserves it. Eliott. The kind of carefree happiness he hasn’t felt in years. </p><p>Doesn’t he?</p><p> </p><p>As it turns out, a few months at sea can make even the most enthusiastic sailor ready for a little bit of land. Sea legs are one thing but your world being confined to the size of a ship, no matter how vast the ocean around you, makes for some excitement – especially for fresh food and some new faces.</p><p>The announcement makes the crew more lively, running around to secure things and get things ready for port. They won’t be there long – just a few days, but it’s a promise for a little something new. And Tortuga is generally a good place to go. It can be dirty, and a bit crude, full of other pirates and criminals and thieves but that makes it feel a little more like home. Especially with the connection to Manon and her tavern. </p><p>Eliott hasn’t explained exactly why they’re stopping and Lucas hasn’t asked. He knows on some level it’s because they need supplies – more fresh water and food. They’ve been basically living off of rum, beans and sea biscuits. The sea biscuits in particular were hard to get used to – just a mixture of water and floor dried out into rock hard pieces. Definitely not premium cuisine. And yet, they carry on, their world narrowed down to its limits.</p><p>But Lucas also knows there must be more. He knows that they have to speak to Manon and even from that first night he’s wondered exactly what they were discussing with her. He knows she’s well-connected and helps aid in the sale of their loot, but it still seems extreme to make an extra trip all the way to her tavern. There are other sellers closer by. So the questions are there, but Lucas holds his tongue. He figures it’s not his place to demand answers. Not now, not when there are things he’s not ready to discuss either. </p><p>Instead he works in the sun with Yann, Emma, and Daphne, tying down ropes and fixing sails, scrubs the deck with Arthur, helps Bas use the last of their rations, and even helps Idriss and Alex fix part of the railing that was falling apart. </p><p>And at night he lets Eliott point out the stars to him, showing him how Polaris is still there, steady and unchanging, whispering in his ear that the ocean reminds him of his eyes and the stars of the smile. And then Lucas lets Eliott hold him close, falling asleep to the beat of his heart.</p><p>He thinks, just before he falls asleep, that this is the happiest he’s ever been. That he wishes his life could be like Polaris, fixed there in that spot where his heart is held. But he can’t stop the sky from spinning around him.</p><p> </p><p>Tortuga, when they arrive, is unassuming and relatively quiet in the late afternoon sun. Lucas knows that come nightfall the streets and taverns will fill up and the excitement will return but for now, he likes it like this. Somewhat quiet and lazy, like a wave pulling back from the shore only to have another arrive and crash violently on the sand.</p><p>Arthur and Basile have stayed behind for the day to look after the ship, docked in that special alcove that keeps it safe from the open ocean but also hides it from shore and prying eyes. Eliott told him it was Manon who pointed it out to them originally. </p><p>The rest of them make their way to shore in two small boats. Idriss, Alex, Yann, Daphne, and Alexia are in one, ready to go out and start securing the supplies they need. Lucas, Eliott, Imane, Sofiane and Emma are in the other, ready to head to Manon’s when they hit the sand.</p><p>Eliott squeezes his hand as he helps him out of the small boat they used to row to shore and Lucas can’t help but be brought back to that first day, before he could have anticipated how much it all would be different. </p><p>They walk together through the streets. Imane and Sofiane lead the group and Eliott lingers back so he can walk next to Lucas, deliberately letting their knuckles brush together as he swings his arms. His heart skips just a little each time their skin touches, like he hasn’t touched him before, like each time is something new. </p><p>Manon’s tavern is just as Lucas remembers it. The old wooden sign hangs proudly from a wrought iron pole and all of the doors are thrown open to the street, making the inside and outside one. If anything, it’s a little quieter than Lucas was used to. It’s the off-season now – winter – and less ships are coming in as routes close off due to the colder temperatures and the ice up north. It’s milder on the island now too, his shirt not sticking to his skin like it once did. It’s less urgent, it’s safe, like those happy few weeks he spent here all those months ago.</p><p>When Mika sees them approaching, he throws up his hands and shouts in greeting. It’s early in the day and the tavern has maybe one or two patrons, so Mika quickly leaves his spot behind the counter to greet them all by the door.</p><p>“Ah my favorite pirates,” he says, opening his arms wide. “How <em> is </em> the lovely crew of the <em> Black Rose </em>?” </p><p>“We’re well,” the Captain replies, smiling at him. “How are you?”</p><p>Mika nods. “Can’t complain,” he says as he reaches the group, kissing each of them in turn on the cheek. Lucas knows he hasn’t seen him yet, where he stands partly hidden from view behind Sofiane and Captain Bakhellal, and part of him is nervous to see if Mika will remember him as fondly as he remembers this place.</p><p>“And Eliott!” Mika exclaims, reaching to clasp Eliott’s hand and giving him an exaggerated wink, “It’s <em> always </em> lovely to see you.”</p><p>“It’s good to see you too Mika,” Eliott laughs.</p><p>“And who is– Lucas!” </p><p>Lucas barely has time to react before Mika jumps towards him, wrapping him in a tight hug.</p><p>“Oh I’m so glad you’re here,” he says excitedly. “Manon will be so happy to see you. And to see you’re still with the <em> Black Rose </em>! Though I guess that means I owe her money then…” He trails off.</p><p>“Hey!” Lucas says indignantly.</p><p>“Only teasing,” Mika jokes, squeezing him tighter. “I’m glad you’ve found somewhere to land.”</p><p>That’s enough to set something off, and Lucas feels his throat tighten slightly, overcome with emotion. It’s true, it’s been nice not to run. The last time he was here he thought he might have to forever. But now...perhaps his mind is starting to change. </p><p>“It’s good to see you,” Lucas manages to choke out as he holds on until Mika finally lets him go and steps back, ready to move on and greet Emma. </p><p>But Eliott must notice something because he taps gently at Lucas’ wrist as his arms fall, making Lucas look up at him. His forehead is creased in question as he rubs a circle into Lucas’ wrist, his face seeming to say <em> are you alright? </em></p><p>It’s all Lucas can do to nod. It’s an easy answer this time. <em> Yes </em>.</p><p> </p><p>Manon appears shortly after that, perhaps called by the commotion. There’s another round of excited greetings, and Manon hugs him even tighter than Mika did, whispering <em> I knew I was right about you </em> in his ear and kissing his cheek. It’s a realization then, of the faith she’d put in him well before he deserved it, and it makes him tear up again. He always did feel like they were kindred spirits in a way, complimentary in the ways that made them help each other. </p><p>Lucas knows then that Captain Bakhellal, Sofiane and Eliott will go to the back like they did before to discuss something that he still can’t be told for some reason or another. It’s Eliott's secret, for now, and one Lucas doesn’t begrudge him. It must be some kind of weight for the three of them - and Idriss he expects - to bear that burden of leadership like that. Emma disappears as well after Manon whispers something to her, retreating to the labyrinth of backrooms behind the main hall of the tavern. But Lucas is content to sit and wait it out, wait for Eliott to do what he needs and come back, so he takes a seat at Mika’s bar as Manon leads the other three to her office.</p><p>But before they turn the corner, Eliott turns back, finding him across the room and smiles. Just like he did before. Lucas can’t help the way his heart flutters.</p><p>“So...is that happening?” Lucas whips around to face the bar as Mika’s voice breaks through his thoughts, finding Mika looking between him and the space Eliott just occupied.</p><p>“What do you mean?” Lucas sputters. Though he shouldn’t be surprised. That part of himself has never been hidden from Mika but it’s still surprising when someone recognizes it.</p><p>Mika raises his eyebrow but then leans on the counter, putting his chin in his hand, smirking. “Have you kissed?”</p><p>Lucas doesn’t answer but he doesn’t need to. The accompanying pink tint to his cheeks is an answer in and of itself. </p><p>Mika laughs, but it’s quiet, nice. “Why are you blushing? I know that’s not the first time. Or do you not remember where we met?”</p><p>Lucas chuckles and rolls his eyes. “Yes, of course I remember.”</p><p>Even though it was Manon who eventually took him in, Mika had first found him a few days earlier in one of the more underground parts of town where he’d stumbled on the other people like him. It wasn’t something he’d really ever acted on before he left home, far too afraid of the consequences. But one of the good things that constantly moving around afforded him was the lowered risk of exploring that part of himself, even if it was something he’d known for years. And even if those explorations tended to be rather quick and disappointing. </p><p>That night though, when Mika found him, he’d been a bit out of it, having drunk more than he meant to in his relief at escaping yet again. He’d taken one look at Lucas and dragged him outside, waiting with him until it got light out and Lucas had sobered up enough to get skittish and run. But he was forever grateful for that kindness Mika had shown him. And he suspects he’d put in a good word with Manon too once he’d finally resurfaced at the tavern. It was comforting to have someone know, and to know someone who was like him too. And now, Lucas can see the way Mika’s eyes shine as he teases him about Eliott, but he knows there’s something more there, a history and past they share in concurrent paths that makes him want to talk about it.</p><p>“But I don’t know…” Lucas trails off, his eyes finding once again the spot where Eliott was only a few minutes ago. “It’s just different this time. It’s never been like this before.”</p><p>Mika smiles at him, warm and wide. “Are you together?”</p><p>“In a way.” Lucas shrugs, because he doesn’t know what to say, or how to define it. When your life is tied to the sea, there’s a kind of immediacy that clings to everything. Thinking too far ahead makes no sense, especially when it can all be taken from you in a matter of minutes, in the time it takes to brew a storm. But still, he knows that he always wants Eliott around, and there’s something that makes him think Eliott feels the same. “We’re just taking it slow.”</p><p>“Little by little?”</p><p>Lucas pauses, thinking. “Minute by minute.”</p><p> </p><p>It’s later, after they’ve had their meeting with Manon, after they’ve stayed and eaten in the tavern, joined by the other crew members who’d been out securing more supplies, after everyone begins to sort out their plans for the night, that Eliott pulls him aside and asks him to wait.</p><p>Lucas only grins and stops where he is in the corner of the dimly lit tavern, feeling the kind of refreshed that comes with a warm meal after weeks of ship food and the blatant realization that he’d become a part of something, even if he didn’t mean to. That he’s a member of a group, that there are people who care about him. He feels so warm and safe and his heart’s so full it’s nearly bursting. He can’t remember the last time he’s felt like this, if he ever really has at all. </p><p>He watches as Eliott makes his way over to Manon, standing near the hallway in the back, her arms crossed over her chest as she surveys the room. He leans in close and whispers something to her only for her to nod quickly. She disappears for a moment into the backrooms and then hands Eliott something and smiles at him and then he’s coming back to him.</p><p>They race through the darkened streets together, a little too loudly and a little too carefree, but as much as Lucas knows they both love the <em> Black Rose </em>, being on land where there’s space and privacy and everything else is a welcome change. Lucas has been so used to looking over his shoulder he’s forgotten what it’s like to just sprint until your lungs burn and collapse where you land.</p><p>They make it to a small door nestled between two shops and Eliott pulls out a key laughing loudly at the wild smile that breaks across Lucas’ face. It’s one of the rooms Manon owns, one of the spaces she generally rents out to the wealthier people who pass through, though now, with the shipping lines a little quieter, he assumes it’s probably sat empty.</p><p>“What is this?” Lucas whispers as Eliott fumbles with the lock, trying to open the door. He tries to keep his voice low, not attract attention, but his joy is so bright he can’t help the laughter that pours out.</p><p>Eliott doesn’t answer him at first, intent on getting the door finally open and pulling Lucas into the darkened entryway behind him. But once the door shuts, he presses Lucas up against the wood and kisses him slow, his hands big and warm on his face.</p><p>“It’s for you,” Eliott says finally when they break apart, still so close he’s almost speaking into Lucas’ mouth. “Or for us. Thought it might be nice to take a night away from the ship.”</p><p>It makes Lucas a little speechless so he does the only thing he can really manage – wrap his arms around Eliott’s waist and kiss him again. </p><p>They laugh into each other’s mouths and then Eliott is pulling back and tugging at Lucas’ elbow to lead him up the stairs to a different door in the hallway, unlocking it with another key and then stepping inside. </p><p>It’s a small room, and rather simple, lit by two oil lamps sat on end tables. The walls are dark and deep green curtains are pulled across the windows. But there’s a bed in the center of the room, with clean linens, and it’s much larger than Eliott’s cot and softer than the hammocks scattered below deck, or the wooden boards of the floor. And on the bed is what Lucas recognizes as an expensive bottle of wine from Manon’s storeroom and a bouquet of flowers he must have gotten from one of the vendors nearest to port. </p><p>“I asked Manon for a room,” Eliott admits as he closes the door behind them, surveying the room. “I know it’s not much,” he shrugs, glancing over at Lucas like he’s trying to gauge his reaction, “but I thought having a real bed might be nice and–”</p><p>Lucas cuts him off before he can go any further down that path. “Thank you,” he breathes out, turning to take Eliott’s hand in his, swiping his thumb across the soft skin on the back of it. He knows that Eliott must have been planning it, gone out of his way to do this...for <em> him </em>. It may not seem like much, but Lucas knows it would have been easier to just go back to the ship with everyone else – that Eliott took their one night in port and did something with it.</p><p>He takes a step closer to Eliott, bringing his other hand to his hip. “No one’s ever done something like this for me before,” he says quietly. And then he kisses him.</p><p>Lucas thinks that at some point it shouldn’t feel like this anymore. It shouldn’t feel like he’s burning up from the inside out every time Eliott touches him, shouldn’t make his heart race every time he’s near. But it does. It’s like a hurricane brewing, a storm at sea. The kind that comes out of nowhere, turns the sky black and picks up the waves and he just has to ride it out, let it take him because there’s no use fighting it. So he does – lets the water rise up and the waves crash over him until he’s underwater.</p><p>They fall onto the bed together, the wine and the flowers falling gently to the floor, but they pay no mind. Eliott reaches out and pulls Lucas’ shirt out of where it’s tucked into his pants, kissing down his neck as he starts to undo the buttons. Lucas shivers with want, pulling Eliott toward him until his shirt comes free and he can pull it off, tossing it somewhere behind him. Then it’s Eliott’s turn to lose his shirt, though Lucas laughs because he knows most of the buttons are undone already, Eliott’s inclination toward baring his chest unchanged.</p><p>They kiss frantically at first, Lucas feeling like he’s being pulled apart and put back together all at the same time, but then it slows down as they lose the rest of their clothes, Lucas pausing only to gently lift the compass over his head and place it on the table next to the bed. And then he’s back on Eliott, lips searing paths across his skin, bodies moving in a gratifying and familiar pattern. </p><p>And then there’s Eliott, flushed and panting beneath him as Lucas straddles him, looking so beautiful that Lucas almost forgets how to breathe, who’s looking at him like he’s more than he is and kisses him and holds him through everything. </p><p>It’s relief when the realization hits him. It’s comfort as he kisses Eliott and reaches down between them. He wants this for as long as Eliott will let him. And he would do anything to keep him safe.</p><p> </p><p>After is a long stretch of honey-colored quiet. Eliott opens the wine and they drink from the bottle, fingers wrapped around the neck and throats moving as they swallow. Lucas has retrieved the flowers from the ground, admiring them and complimenting Eliott on his taste. It only makes Eliott blush prettily, and then Lucas has to kiss him, and suddenly they’re wrapped up in each other again until they fall to the bed panting. </p><p>But there’s no rush. No fear that someone might hear them or they have to be up early to tend to the ship. For the first time it really just feels for them, a place removed from it all. </p><p>Eliott watches him as he sits up later, reaching for the compass and slipping it back over his head. He knows that here it’s probably safe, but he’s always felt better with it where it could feel it, with it next to his heart where he doesn’t have to worry. It sits there on his chest as he nestles back down into Eliott’s side, his head resting on Eliott’s shoulder. </p><p>“Can I ask about it?” Eliott's voice breaks through the quiet, muffled slightly from where his face is pressed in Lucas’ hair.</p><p>There’s the familiar panic that flutters up in his chest, but Lucas knows there’s no reason for it. He won’t let it make him react poorly. Eliott had already shared so much. Lucas can give him this.</p><p>He takes a deep breath. “You already know it was my mother’s.”</p><p>Eliott nods.</p><p>“What else do you want to know?”</p><p>It takes Eliott a moment to come up with a question. Lucas suspects it’s because it’s less about the compass and more about the story behind it. </p><p>“When did she give it to you?”</p><p>Lucas pulls back a little so he can look at Eliott, his face resting against the pillow as he turns toward him. </p><p>“Right before she died,” he says finally, the deep hurt from that memory welling up in his chest. “The last time I ever saw her.”</p><p>He hears the way Eliott inhales, the way his hand finds his in the sheet and he squeezes. “I’m sorry,” he whispers. </p><p>Lucas shakes his head. “It’s okay…” he trails off. “Or it’s not, but there’s nothing I can do.”</p><p>Eliott nods. He knows he understands his pain. He isn’t sure what to expect next though, and Eliott, somehow, surprises him. </p><p>“Tell me about her.”</p><p>It’s the first time anyone has ever asked. And the first time he’s ever really felt okay with talking about it. About her, about everything. He’d always expected for a question like that to make him want to run and hide, for it to hurt so much that he couldn’t get the words out, but with Eliott lying there looking at him, their legs intertwined, his hand smoothing down his back in soothing circles, Lucas finds he wants to talk about her, wants to tell him. So he does.</p><p>He tells him about the times they used to go down to the beach together to collect shells, how most of the time it was the two of them in the big house together. What he doesn’t say is where his father was. He tells him about her big skirts and the way he used to hold onto them, how she’d read him bits of poetry or teach him how to sew. Or show him how to tend her garden with her prize roses. What he doesn’t say is how quickly his father put a stop to that – things that apparently boys shouldn’t show undue interest in. He tells Eliott how her father was a sailor too, in the navy, and that the compass once belonged to him. How it didn’t work, had broken long before even his mother had found it, but how once she had it, it was hard to let go. </p><p>And then he pauses, breathing deep, as he talks about the part he normally leaves out.</p><p>“She was sick,” he says slowly, and Eliott nods, encouraging him. It’s something he’s told him before but– “But not how you think…” He trails off, the hole in his heart threatening to open up again, but he’s started now and he doesn’t want to go back. “She went mad.”</p><p>Eliott barely blinks. His brow furrows slightly, but he continues to card his fingers through Lucas’ hair, continues to look at him like he wants to hear whatever Lucas wants to tell him. </p><p>“How do you mean?” Eliott asks softly. </p><p>Lucas shrugs. “She was always very religious. She loved the church, used to go nearly every day. But then she started fixating on it.” He has to pause, swallow, as he feels his throat get tight. He goes on. “She started seeing things that weren’t there, hearing voices. She would get scared that she was being possessed. And then it would go on for a while, and then sometimes it would be like nothing happened.” He looks up at Eliott and feels him wipe away a tear from his cheek. He hadn’t realized he was crying. “My father didn’t know what to do with it.” He flinches. It’s the first time Lucas has mentioned him but he can’t tell this story without it. “He was embarrassed and scared how it would make him look. He brought in a few doctors, but nothing they tried worked and eventually he gave up. And then he just made her stay inside. He was scared that if she went out, went to church, met up with her friends, that she’d break and they’d find out. And he couldn’t have that. But staying inside, stuck there, made her sad. And she started doing worse. And I just wanted my mom but sometimes it was like I couldn’t reach her. And I tried.”</p><p>At that his voice cracks and Eliott responds immediately, running his hand down his back to pull him closer, into the safe confines of his arms. He’s grateful he doesn’t have to look at Eliott through the next part, unsure he could get it out if Eliott was looking directly at him.</p><p>“When I was 16, my father sent me away on a trip up north to stay with some relatives. I was going to be gone for months and I didn’t want to go but he made me. My mother was doing well in those last few weeks before I left and she gave me the compass as a good luck charm for the journey. She told me to keep it safe. It was the last time I spoke to her.”</p><p>Eliott just holds him tighter.</p><p>“I was gone for four months. I didn’t hear anything from my parents. And when I arrived back home I found out that it had burned down and my mother was dead. My father hadn’t even written to me to tell me so I could come to her funeral. He said I never would have made it in time anyway so he didn’t see the point in cutting my trip short. That was when I knew I had to go. So that night I packed a bag and I left. I haven’t been back since.”</p><p>The room is quiet when Lucas finishes, just the sound of their breathing in the air. Eliott must be waiting to make sure Lucas is done because after a few seconds he finally speaks.</p><p>“I’m so sorry.” His tone is low, sincere, and Lucas can feel how he holds him tighter when he trembles, in a state of shock that he managed to get it out.</p><p>Lucas pulls back from Eliott’s arms enough so he can look at him, smoothing a hand across his face and then pressing a soft kiss to his lips. “It’s what happened,” he says, repeating what he’s had to tell himself over and over all these years. “I wish it hadn’t, but I can’t change it.”</p><p>Eliott closes his eyes and nods once, pressing his forehead against Lucas’ like he’s trying to ground him. </p><p>“You’re so strong,” he says finally.</p><p>It takes no time for Lucas to reply. </p><p>“So are you.”</p><p>It’s true. Their lives aren’t easy. And what you have to go through to end up resorting to it, to the paths they’re on right now, is often even harder. It’s fighting everyday to keep going. Finding the bright spots in the storm, weathering them when they come, accepting that not everything can be controlled, that sometimes things happen that can’t be stopped. But they make that choice, <em> every day </em>. And Lucas knows he would choose Eliott if he could. Even if it wasn’t guaranteed, even if it was hard. </p><p>“I’ve never told anyone that before,” Lucas admits. “I’m glad I told you.”</p><p>There’s a subtle upturn that comes to the corners of Eliott’s mouth. Not quite a smile, with things so heavy, but a recognition of the trust Lucas is placing in him. </p><p>“I’m glad you told me too.”</p><p>“I’m sorry for bringing the mood down.”</p><p>“No.” Eliott shakes his head. “Don’t apologize for that. I’m honored that you wanted me to know. I’m so glad you trust me with that.”</p><p>“Of course I do,” Lucas replies. “I’d trust you with anything.” Well, almost anything, a sharp twist in his gut reminds him. But it doesn’t feel right, now, to spill that too. So he saves it, holds on. </p><p>But then Eliott pauses, small and unsure, looking like he wants to ask something.</p><p>“What is it?” Lucas asks him. </p><p>“Were you ever mad at your mother for what happened?”</p><p>It’s not the question Lucas had been expecting, and he’s not quite sure why Eliott’s asking, but it seems important to him for some reason and it’s something he’s thought a lot about in the past few years. </p><p>“A little when I was younger,” he admits. “But I know it wasn’t something she wanted to happen or something she was doing on purpose, no matter what my father thought. And I know she was trying. I’m still not sure exactly what happened the night she died, and I’m not sure I’ll ever find out but no, I’m not mad at her.”</p><p>Eliott nods and Lucas has to lean in and kiss him gently on his nose, has to let him know that he’s okay. That this doesn’t affect him the same way it used to, that he’s okay because for the first time he wants to talk about it.</p><p>“You know what my first thought was when I found out?” Lucas hears himself asking.</p><p>“What?” Eliott replies. </p><p>“How sad she’d be that her garden was gone,” he says. “I promised myself that one day, when I get a little house, I’d plant a garden just like hers. And I’d tend to the roses just like she taught me.”</p><p>Eliott does smile then, small and sweet. “I think that’s a beautiful idea.”</p><p>Lucas watches the way Eliott’s face changes in the flickering lamp light. How the shadows stretch and move around them, how he looks lying there in the bed next to him.</p><p>“I’ve always wanted a little house with a garden,” Eliott muses, his face pressed into the pillow as Lucas looks at him. </p><p>His face is tired and Lucas knows they should sleep, but it will probably be a few hours before either of them can settle. And Lucas is more than willing to listen to whatever life Eliott has planned out in his head.</p><p>“Is that where you’ll go after this?” Lucas doesn’t clarify but they both know what he means. <em> This </em>. The pillaging and plundering. Being a pirate. Does it really ever end except in a blaze of glory? They can’t know but it must be comforting to imagine. Because this, all of this, was never meant to be permanent. It’s a means to an end. It’s a way to survive.</p><p>Eliott smiles, his hand coming up to smooth the hair away from Lucas’ forehead, leaving his fingers to trace along his cheekbone and his jaw. “I hope so,” he answers finally. “I’m thinking of a cottage somewhere that looks out over the sea. There’s green fields behind it and the blue ocean in front of it and the little garden, of course. And maybe there’s a dog. Or a cat like we have on the ship.” He trails off for a moment, lost in thought. “Actually, when this is all done I guess Felix would need a home, so we’d probably have to take her–”</p><p>Lucas freezes when he hears it, and Eliott must realize at the exact same moment too because his fingers stop their movement in his hair. <em> We </em>. Lucas takes a deep breath and looks up at Eliott to find him looking back with wide eyes, like he’s waiting for Lucas’ reaction. </p><p>“You mean that?” Lucas asks, small and a little desperate. He’s never really had a home that was his. Concrete or otherwise and it seems like Eliott is offering– </p><p>“Yes.” Eliott replies with almost no hesitation, moving in closer so their noses are almost touching and Lucas nearly goes cross eyed trying to keep looking at him. “Ever since I met you..” he pauses, licks his lips, “Well you’re always there when I think about it. I can’t imagine my future without you.”</p><p>And Lucas might cry, he really might, if not for the fear that Eliott might take it the wrong way, interpret it as anything but the wildest joy. Because this is what he’s been searching for. This is the thing he’d never thought he’d get.</p><p>“That feels a lot like a promise,” Lucas says quietly, his voice cracking.</p><p>“It is.”</p><p>“How would that even work?” It’s the time for his mind to do what it normally does, swirl up into a panic. Eliott smooths it away with the pad of his thumb.</p><p>“We’ll figure it out.”</p><p>“Just like that?”</p><p>“Just like that.”</p><p>It’s a small promise, just spoken out into the world around them, but it quiets Lucas’ aching heart so quickly it nearly takes his breath away. He kisses Eliott then, feeling so raw and exposed but also freer than ever before. It’s a shift, he can feel it just beneath his sternum and he hopes it stays. It’s like he’s finally touched something he’s always been reaching for. Now he just needs to grasp it and never let go.</p><p>It takes a little while, some more holding and several more kisses before both of them are calm enough to let sleep take them. But when it does they drift together to the center of the bed and neither of them lets go.</p><p> </p><p>They wake to banging on their door. The curtains are still drawn so Lucas doesn’t know what time it is but he imagines it’s probably late in the morning. He wonders if Captain Bakhellal sent someone to get them, or if they’ve slept the whole day away. Eliott shifts next to him, rubbing his eyes and frowning. </p><p>“Who do you think that is?” Lucas asks him. </p><p>Eliott shrugs. “I’m not sure.” </p><p>They both scramble out of bed and throw on some clothes while Eliott shouts for whoever it is to hold on a second. It takes a moment but once they’re both decent, Lucas shuffles out of sight while Eliott goes to answer the door.</p><p>“Manon,” he hears Eliott say, his voice slightly surprised as he opens the door.</p><p>“Eliott, hi,” she says, her voice a little thinner than normal. “So sorry to intrude but I have to talk to you. Is Lucas still here?”</p><p>Lucas steps out from the corner of the room to join Eliott in the doorway. “What’s going on?”</p><p>She looks between them, her mouth set into a hard line that looks out of place on her face. It makes Lucas nervous to see her like that. </p><p>“I think it would be better if you both come with me,” she says quietly. “I’ve sent Emma to get Imane, Idriss and Sofiane. They’ll meet us at the tavern.”</p><p>It seems clear that whatever it is, she won’t talk about it here. And Lucas knows better than to question if it’s something serious. They gather their things quickly, Lucas finishing buttoning his shirt and tucking the compass under it, pulling on his boots and then they’re out the door, following Manon through the streets, the brush of Eliott’s fingers against his a grounding force.</p><p>When they arrive at the tavern, Manon takes them around the back instead. She’s quiet, barely said anything on their walk over, and her face is pale with worry. It puts Lucas on edge to see her like this. They go through the back door and into the dimly lit maze of hallways behind the main room. It’s a place Lucas knows well, having spent a fair bit of time there while he was living here. But it’s out of the way, hidden from most of the other patrons. She leads them around another corner and there stands the Captain, Sofiane and Idriss, brows creased in confusion and worry.</p><p>“Manon,” Captain Bakhellal says briskly, evidently concerned as to why they’ve all been summoned here. “What’s going on?”</p><p>Manon looks between all of them and then back to the Captain. “It’s about–” she trails off, looks around again. But she doesn’t need to finish her sentence. It’s clear everyone, except Lucas, understands. He can tell by how Eliott is standing next to him that he tenses, that something is going on that Lucas isn’t privy to yet. </p><p>“We should go in here,” Manon says, gesturing to a small room on her right. And then she looks over at Lucas, eyes apologetic. “Maybe not you, Lucas, I’m sorry.”</p><p>He just nods. He’d been expecting it after all. There are some things he’s just not allowed to know. He hopes that if it’s something serious they need to handle that Eliott will ask him for help, but for now he knows he’s still somewhat of an outsider. He hasn’t been in this as long.</p><p>But it still stings just a little. </p><p>Eliott turns to him. “Wait here,” he says. “I’ll be right out.” He grabs Lucas’ hand in his own and brings it up to his lips, kissing his knuckles softly. “Don’t go anywhere.”</p><p>So Lucas stays. He paces around the hallway, and even if he was trying he wouldn’t be able to understand what was happening behind those closed doors, the wood thick enough to muffle the sounds inside. </p><p>He runs into Mika on his fifth or sixth walk of the hallway who forces him to sit down for a moment and goes and gets him some bread so he puts something in his stomach. It’s hard to eat, dry and rather stale, his stomach bubbling with worry. </p><p>After what feels like ages, they finally emerge. While they all still look a bit weary, they all seem significantly less disturbed when they first arrived. Captain Bakhellal whispers something to Eliott and he nods, his face serious before turning to Lucas.</p><p>“Hi,” Lucas breathes as Eliott steps toward him. “Is everything okay?”</p><p>Eliott looks like he doesn’t know exactly what to say. “It should be,” he answers. “Just it’s not exactly what we planned for but it does give us something else.”</p><p>Lucas looks at him confused. “What’s that?”</p><p>The Captain turns to look at him then, smiling a little sheepishly when she speaks. “An opportunity,” she says slowly. “And we need your help.”</p><p>That doesn’t help clear things up for him. He’s still just as confused as he was before. “How?”</p><p>“We need your expertise,” Eliott explains. “I need to break into someone’s room and find something.”</p><p> </p><p>Manon gives them a key that lets them in.</p><p>The room is dark and quiet, the curtains drawn tightly despite it being the middle of the day. It’s relatively tidy, with a large trunk off to one side, a few books on a small table and a pile of clothes on the chair. The bed has clearly been slept in, but other than that it’s nothing particularly interesting.</p><p>Lucas knows they don’t have much time. From what Manon told them, maybe half an hour total to get in and entirely out.</p><p>Eliott heads immediately for the trunk. He crouches down and inspects the latch, swearing when he finds that it’s locked. </p><p>“I don’t suppose you know how to pick locks do you?” he asks, as Lucas lingers nervously near the door. It’s not unlike some of the situations he’s found himself in before, but after those few months on the <em> Black Rose </em> away from it all, it’s unsettling to find himself here.</p><p>But still, it’s not like he’s forgotten it.</p><p>“Of course I do,” Lucas scoffs, taking over as Eliott steps aside and backs toward the door, glancing between and where Lucas has turned to crouch now, pulling out the long pieces of metal he’s glad now he had the sense to take with him.</p><p>It takes him only a few seconds – the lock is particularly flimsy even though the construction looks solid, made from a sturdy polished wood that feels smooth to the touch, sparking something in Lucas’ memory. But then the work is done and he steps back as Eliott rushes toward it once again, flipping open the lid and starting to rifle through it.</p><p>“What exactly are you looking for?” Lucas whispers, taking a few steps back toward the door, nearer to the small table with the books. He reaches down and picks one up – a small leather bound thing, and begins to flip through it. </p><p>“It’s kind of hard to explain–” Eliott starts but then Lucas stops listening, his heart dropping into his stomach.</p><p>There, on the second page, is the insignia he’s vowed to stay far away from, the same one that had been on that paperweight Eliott had taken from that ship in those first few weeks, the same one Lucas had been forced to see – and wear – for years. The one he’d torn from his jacket that night those years ago when he slipped out a window and ran off into the night. </p><p>“Eliott,” he says weakly, his throat barely managing to make the sounds. “Eliott,” he repeats louder when Eliott fails to hear him, as the corners of his vision go blurry. Eliott looks up at him, frantic, but worry takes over his expression as he takes in Lucas’ white and trembling form.</p><p>“Whose room is this?” Lucas manages, his hands shaking so much the book falls to the floor.</p><p>Eliott looks at him, bewildered. </p><p>“Whose room is this?” he barks out.</p><p>But Eliott isn’t quick enough to answer.</p><p>Suddenly the door slams open, and Lucas watches in horror as Captain Charles Munier strides into the room, every bit as cocky and overly self-assured as Lucas remembers him.</p><p>He falters for just a moment when he sees Lucas standing there, journal in hand, but it’s just a moment. It’s the thing his father always liked best about Munier. Absolutely nothing fazed him for too long. He always managed to land on his feet, even at the expense of others.</p><p>“I can answer that,” he says jovially, his face taut and mocking. “It’s mine.”</p><p>Lucas wishes desperately for the floor to open up and swallow him whole. He glances toward Eliott, who has gone pale, rising up from where he’d been rummaging through the chest.</p><p>“I have to admit, when I got word there was someone in my room who shouldn’t be, I was a bit angry,” Munier says coyly, sarcasm dripping off every word as he takes another step into the room. “But this, this is a lovely surprise.”</p><p>Munier takes a step into the room and Eliott instinctively steps closer to Lucas, as if he means to stand in between them. It’s not words, but it’s a confession all the same. And in a flash, Lucas knows how this is going to end. It’s clear from Munier’s face that he does too.</p><p>“A pirate, who has been causing<em> quite </em> a bit of trouble,” Munier says slowly looking at Eliott who looks desperately toward Lucas and Lucas looks back anxious to memorize this face now, before the heartbreak. He hopes Eliott can see the truth of his heart in his eyes.</p><p>“And Lucas!” Munier says, clapping his hands together, a sick gleeful smile on his face. “It is <em> so </em>lovely to see you again. Your father had been wondering where you’d run off to.” His mouth twists as he looks at him, the cruelty evident on his face.</p><p>“What name are you going by now? Your mother’s? Lallemant or something? Why you’d want to be associated with that, I’ll never know.” He glances over at Eliott like he might back him up but then shrugs. “Probably best for your father though. It keeps the Richelieu name from getting tarnished too much.”</p><p>Lucas is forced to watch as Eliott’s face crumples.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>a few of you have been calling it for several chapters now, so know I appreciate you! also welcome to the angst!</p><p>as always i'm on tumblr <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a> i'd love to know what you think here or over there! until next time 💛</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Zephyrus: Part 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>thank you everyone for sticking with me!</p>
<p>part 2 should be up in a few days</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Eliott</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It keeps the Richelieu name from getting tarnished too much.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott feels as his face falls. He wants to look over to Lucas, look and see anything that would contradict this, make it not the truth, but the silence from him is enough. He chances a glance up anyway and finds Lucas looking back at him with his jaw set tight, panic in his eyes and Eliott knows it’s all true. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas is Richelieu’s son.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It all makes sense in a way, in those five seconds Eliott gets to process this, in the five seconds it takes for Lucas to shut down. Lucas had never acted as though he wasn’t running from something, always seemed on the verge of taking off again, but Eliott had never fully understood why. Until now. And the way Lucas had acted so nervous that first time after he saw the paperweight. Eliott had chalked it up to trepidation about Richelieu and Munier’s reputation, but it seems obvious now it wasn’t the nervousness of someone who had heard stories, but rather someone who knew from experience. How had Eliott missed this? How had he gotten so close to someone involved in the thing he’d been going after for all these years?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It feels like betrayal, something deep in his heart that twists and desperately wants to turn ugly, rear it’s gruesome head and demand retribution for the deception. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And yet– as he turns and takes in the look on Lucas’ face, just takes in Lucas’ face, he knows there’s a part of him that wants an explanation, that wants to hear from him exactly what is going on. And the wide look in Lucas’ eyes, the slight quiver of his lips that Eliott wouldn’t pick up on had he not kissed them so many times, seems like Lucas wants it too. But it’s not the time for that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Munier must catch on to the silent conversation passing between him because suddenly he’s laughing. Loud and cold as he looks between them until he tuts, addressing Lucas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Oh,” he draws out, fake concern dripping from his words. “Had you not told him? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to spoil your cover.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Eliott knows that’s exactly what he intended. He was banking on the fact that Lucas has been hiding his identity for years now to try and turn them against each other. And it probably would have worked up until a few weeks ago, but now Eliott finds himself chiefly concerned with getting out of the situation he’s in now. The conversation with Lucas can happen later. But it won’t happen at all if Munier gets his way. And Eliott just can’t allow that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you want?” Lucas asks him, and Eliott can hear how it wavers, just slightly, cluing Eliott in that he’s not as solid as he seems. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Munier laughs again. It’s the worst sound in the world. “What do I want?” he replies. “Well, what I wanted was to find out who was so stupid as to break into my room and see what they thought they were going to find. But now that I see it’s the two of you, I already know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you know?” Lucas is doing all the talking despite the way he’s trembling. But Eliott doesn’t know what he would say, doesn’t know where he fits into this.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What you’re looking for,” Munier replies, waving his hand lazily into the air. “I’m sure you told him. And they’ve already been looking for it, I’m sure of it.” He pauses, looking them both over. “An unlikely team but it makes sense. Unfortunately for you, I caught on.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott feels his heart speed up without his permission. Is Munier talking about what he thinks he’s talking about? How would he know about that? And how would Lucas know? They’ve never had that conversation, unless…</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Once the thought trickles into his mind, it’s hard to push it away. They’ve suspected for a long time that Munier was guarding the last piece of the map – the most crucial piece. But of course Richelieu would have known about it, would have been searching for the treasure himself and if Richelieu knew about it then Lucas– He stops himself before the thoughts can spiral further. It’s something he needs to ask Lucas. Lucas. The fearsome man with a sword who also has eyes as blue as the ocean and kisses him like he’s made of sunlight. He needs to ask him. But not here. Not now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you going to do?” Lucas asks. He hasn’t taken his eyes off Munier except that brief moment when everything was revealed. The blood still hasn’t come back to his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well…” Munier draws out. “There’s </span>
  <em>
    <span>so</span>
  </em>
  <span> many things I can do. I mean </span>
  <em>
    <span>he</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s” he jerks his head toward Eliott, “he’s a pirate so there’s the </span>
  <em>
    <span>law</span>
  </em>
  <span> to be involved. And then you, well, I think your father really would love to see you. And I’ll let him decide where to go from there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott takes another step toward Munier who’s turned almost completely to face Lucas. Eliott has never seen someone look so small, so cowered in on themselves that it’s like they’re taking up less space than before, less space than they’re meant to. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Though sometimes he thinks about what Idriss says he’s like when it gets bad. The way his eyes blink open but it’s like he’s not seeing anything, or how the ocean waves roll around them and he does nothing to stop the way they move his body. Like his thoughts and his actions are secondary to the way the world makes him. Like everything is a whirlpool with no solid footing and it’s better to just let it pull you under than fight it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Only with a riptide it’s a way to escape. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott brushes his fingers against the cool metal handle of the sword he has stashed in his belt. He almost hadn’t taken it, had almost left it behind until Idriss had pressed it into his hand when he found out where he was going – what he was going for. It was the only way Eliott could convince him to let him go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Munier is saying something else but the pounding in Eliott’s ears is so loud he can’t hear a thing. Lucas looks like he might cry, like he hadn’t ever let himself think about the possibility of a meeting like this so he’s never prepared for it. But Eliott has been fighting demons a long time. And he always manages to come out on top.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And then Eliott moves. Faster than he’d ever realized he could, faster than clearly Munier had expected, somehow thinking he had the upper hand in this situation. But he never did. Eliott is the swirling center of a storm. He’s unpredictable. He can destroy and remake all at once.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He leaps across the room, pulling out his sword as he does and slams it, hard, into the back of Munier’s head. He crumples to the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eliott,” Lucas cries out in surprise. He sounds like he’s swallowing down something close to a sob.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott crosses the room to him in two steps, taking his face in his hands and swiping his thumbs across Lucas’ cheeks, trying to bring him back to him. “We have to go,” he says quietly, urgently, his hands falling from Lucas’ face to grab his hand.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eliott–” Lucas chokes out, like there’s something he wants to say.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott shakes his head. Not here. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Eliott pulls Lucas out of the room.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>They go down the hall quickly, quietly, and Eliott feels his pulse beating as he strains his ears to hear if Munier is coming after them. If he somehow managed to regain consciousness quickly enough to follow them before they have a chance to get away. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas is following behind him, and Eliott can nearly feel the tension rolling off of him in waves. Fear, Eliott imagines, though he isn’t sure exactly what it’s directed at. He feels Lucas reach for his elbow as Eliott leads him out the backdoor and into the street, fingers brushing against the sleeve of his shirt in a silent plea. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But Eliott can’t stop now. They can’t stop here, in the open, where anyone can find them. But Eliott finds himself wondering just how far Lucas will follow him. He finds himself hoping, despite everything, that it’s forever.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott sees an opening at the corner of one of the shops that leads to a narrow alley out of site. He knows it heads toward the docks, where they need to go, and he makes a beeline for it, weaving in and out of the people in the streets. He doesn’t turn to look but he can feel Lucas behind him anyway, following him until they turn into the alley and they’re alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eliott,” Lucas says weakly, his voice smaller than Eliott has ever imagined him before. This person who’s shown up since Munier burst through that door is nothing like the person Eliott knows. It’s like a separate smaller self that’s been revealed. A darker version of the one Eliott had only begun to see the corners of, pressed into the pillow as they whispered in the dark.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a part of him that doesn’t want to do this now. A part of him that isn’t sure how he feels, that’s scared that if he’s asked to break into the swirling thoughts in his mind now that he’ll react poorly. Because regardless of what Lucas says, it still hurts. It hurts to know that he opened up his heart and spilled the loneliest parts of it to someone who was closer than they let on. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But he also knows they won’t make it much further if nothing comes out now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He stops abruptly and he feels the way Lucas stumbles at the last minute, pitching his weight to the side to stop himself from running directly into Eliott’s back. And then he turns slowly. He’s not sure what tone he’s going for, but when the words come out they’re thin, like they’ve been drenched in rainwater, held together mostly by the knowledge that it’s how it should be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is it true?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas clenches his jaw, and looks as though he’s trying not to cry. “Yes,” he says, his voice breaking on the word.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Something twists in Eliott’s chest like the point of a sword being driven through it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How could you not tell me?” Eliott asks. “After everything I told you? After everything you knew?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s complicated,” Lucas pleads. “I didn’t want you to see me differently.” Eliott clenches his jaw, looks away from him. “You promised you wouldn’t see me differently,” he whispers.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, but he doesn’t say anything. Is that what Lucas was talking about when he said he had more to tell him? It must be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unless– </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He hopes, desperately, that Lucas hadn’t realized before that moment, the way their histories had been crossed against their will. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just want to understand,” Eliott manages, watching as Lucas’ eyes dart around his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But then, suddenly, something shifts in Lucas’ face. It’s like he takes a deep breath and all the trepidation that was there only a moment ago is swallowed up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I never meant for it to go so far,” Lucas says as he looks at him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“This whole thing,” Lucas says, his voice wavering like he’s exasperated. “Us.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott feels his heart drop into his stomach. </span>
  <em>
    <span>This whole thing?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Us?” he questions.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas breathes out, a pained look crossing his features. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I didn’t tell you,” he says finally, drawing out the words, “because I figured I wouldn’t be around long enough for it to matter.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words fall like a hammer. Lucas never meant for this to last. When Eliott was spinning stories of buying cottages on the sea, Lucas was always planning his escape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What does that mean?” Eliott manages, swallowing roughly. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas shrugs. It’s infuriating how nonchalant he looks, how much this seems not to bother him as it rakes at Eliott’s heart, turning it to shreds.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It means that I always thought that a few months from now we’d stop at a port and I wouldn’t get back on the ship. That I wouldn’t have to tell you because at some point we’d say goodbye and that would be it.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott wants to scream or throw up, he can’t quite decide. He also wants to shake the man in front of him and ask him why, then, why he spent so much time lying there as Eliott was falling in love with him if he was never planning on a future.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What about us?” Eliott asks, because despite the answer he’s expecting now, he needs to know. He needs to hear it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Lucas takes a deep breath before he speaks, his face transforming into something a little pained. At least he has the decency to look sorry for breaking Eliott’s heart into a million little pieces.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I think it’s always meant more to you than it did to me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The words come crashing down in a fiery storm, Eliott’s expectation in no way softening the blow. But he doesn’t even have a chance to sit in his heartbreak, to really feel the edges of it begin to cut into his flesh, make him bleed before they hear a shout from the main road that makes them both jump.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to go,” Lucas says immediately, eyes flashing as he turns to the entrance to the alley, his right hand brushing the metal handle of his sword.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Go?” Eliott can barely get the word out. It feels like his lungs are collapsing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Lucas says, turning now to look at Eliott, stepping close enough to grab the lapels of his jacket and force him to meet his eyes. His gaze burns. “You need to find the Captain and the rest of the crew and you all need to get out of here. As quickly as you can. Munier will be on a rampage once he wakes up if he hasn’t already and you need to be gone well before he can find a way to follow you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott just stares at him. “What about you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Me?” Lucas shakes his head minutely. “I’m going to stay here. There’s some unfinished business I have to deal with and I…” he trails off, his eyes scanning Eliott’s face like he’s trying to commit it to memory. “Nevermind. Just go, please.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You can’t stay here,” Eliott says quickly, because despite the ache in his chest, he still cares. And he knows what he saw in Lucas’ face when Munier found him. He knows the look of fear. Or maybe he doesn’t. Or maybe it was just the panic of being found out. Everything that’s happened has him second-guessing himself.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott’s heart is beating so rapidly, his thoughts coming one after another that he can barely think of anything else to say. It’s like he’s running in water, like his head is filled with fog.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m staying here,” Lucas says firmly, and then he reaches out and nudges Eliott gently toward the other end of the alley. “But you need to go. Now.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But his touch sets something off in Eliott and suddenly a surge of anger wells up in him that after months of secret meetings in every corner of the ship, kisses on cheeks and necks and chests, whispered words into the pillows, that this is the end of them. That after months of imagining their future, Eliott is forced to realize that it was never the same with Lucas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why are you acting like you care what happens to me?” Eliott snaps, wrenching his arm out of Lucas’ grasp. “Why are you acting like you care what happens to any of us? We were all temporary to you anyway.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>That seems to do something. Something twists in Lucas’ face, painfully distorted, and Eliott hates the rapid feeling of satisfaction that comes with it.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Because I do care, Eliott,” Lucas says in a near whisper. Adding after a moment, “Just not in a way that’s fair to you.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The moments after that are blurry. Eliott remembers running, fighting the burning sensation in his throat and eyes and he turned away from Lucas for what might very well be the last time, without so much as a tear from Lucas.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s like watching Eliott walk out of his life means nothing to him. And Eliott finds himself burning in anger.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But there’s another very real part of him that’s scared too. Munier’s appearance had, at first, set off all those familiar emotions of anger and sadness at the loss of his father, at the thing that Munier represents that ruined his family, but that had been closely followed by the fear. The fear that comes with the knowledge that your opponent has resources and time on their hands that you just don’t. That showing up to a fight you didn’t realize was happening without preparation is a recipe for disaster.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>So Eliott runs. It’s only smart to wait for a moment where he’s more likely to win. When they all could win. Though, he remembers with a jolt, he didn’t manage to find the piece of the map he’d been searching for in Munier’s room. So they’ll have to try again. That’s fine. Probably more like they’d envisioned in the first place, in the open ocean without reinforcements. It’s where they’re stronger after all. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His thoughts are racing when he literally runs into Imane.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s clear from her face that she hadn’t been expecting to find him here. She looks surprised at first, but not worried, but that quickly fades when she takes in Eliott’s red eyes and shaking hands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What happened?” she asks, quickly, quietly. Eliott notices that Sofiane is standing behind her. He’d missed that initially, his vision seemingly there and not all at the same time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane has to ask him again before the words register, before his brain lets them pierce through the fog and he understands what she’s asked. </span>
  <em>
    <span>What’s wrong?</span>
  </em>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Munier,” Eliott chokes out. “He found us in there.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane’s face drops. “Are you okay?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Eliott nods, straightens up. “We managed to get away. I knocked him out and we ran but we have to go before he wakes up Imane, we need to leave…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s rambling now and shaking as the adrenaline is flushed out from his body, leaving him feeling even more vulnerable as he starts turning over the sequence of events in his mind. Imane stops him with a light touch to his arm.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” Imane says gently. “Okay. We can round everyone up and leave no problem. Most of the crew is already back on the ship as it is. But Eliott–”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She trails off, looks at him as he won’t meet her eyes because he knows what she’s going to ask.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where’s Lucas?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott deflates and burns at the same time, the anger and frustration rising up in him all at once at the lies. He clenches his jaw, steadies his shaking hand in the shape of a fist as he breathes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not coming.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane’s eyebrows knit together. “Why not?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not who we thought he was,” Eliott says, taking a breath as he strides past Imane toward the dock. “I’ll explain more later but for now we need to go.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane looks like she wants to protest, but the words seem to die in her mouth as she takes in Eliott’s face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s Richelieu’s son,” Eliott says weakly. “Lucas is Richelieu’s son.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane and Sofiane seem to take it just as well as Eliott did. At first, there are looks of disbelief and then Imane’s eyebrows knit together as she looks at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. “He told me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why didn’t he tell us before?” Imane demands.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott wishes he had a good answer. “I don’t know,” he says. “Maybe he just wanted to see what it was like. But the point is, the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> doesn’t mean anything to him and we need to go why we still can.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Eliott,” Imane says and Eliott knows she’s trying to think of something to say that could make this better, that could make the hurt that must be obvious on him, dissipate at all. But he doesn’t want her pity. He can’t take that right now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Let’s go,” Eliott repeats, his tone increasing in urgency.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It seems enough to convince Imane. She nods and then looks back at Sofiane who nods reassuringly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay,” she says. “We’ll go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>For the first time Eliott feels seasick when his boots hit the wooden planks of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>’s deck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They haven’t even set sail yet, but Eliott’s stomach is twisting in knots as the waves roll under the hull. It’s a beautiful clear day, the kind that Eliott would normally be overjoyed to be sailing in – the water blue and bright as it stretches out before him, the sky clear so as it turns to night the stars will shine down lighting up their path.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But as it is, the color of the sea prompts a sharp pang in his chest, makes his stomach twist and he feels like he should grasp onto the banisters at the edge of the deck if it decides to give up on him. It’s an unfamiliar and uncomfortable feeling, and Eliott hates it. This isn’t something he’d ever imagined would happen.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He gets a few curious looks from the rest of the crew as he steps on board. They’d all been haphazardly rounded up with little explanation or met with the frantic return of people they hadn’t expected for at least another day. Eliott knows he should say something, or at least try and explain but nothing in his mind is settling properly or well enough to say something coherent. Instead he puts his head down as Imane explains there’s been a change of plans. He never really wanted to be the one everyone turned to anyway. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane and Eliott are nearly the last ones back, having somehow found several other crew members on their way. Eliott doesn’t remember most of the journey if he’s being honest. At some point Sofiane had separated from them after a few whispered words between him and Imane and he arrives at the ship a few minutes after them, Emma and Manon in tow.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is Manon coming with us?” Eliott asks Imane, confused as she boards the ship.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I was worried that Munier would figure out she was the one who told us he was here at all,” Imane explains. “I didn’t want to leave her here with that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods in agreement as Manon starts to walk over to them. He’s glad then, that his warning might have helped someone. Manon has done so much for them over the years, it would be wrong to leave her behind now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How are you doing?” Imane asks Manon as she comes close.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>She shrugs, but Eliott can tell she’s a little shaky. “I’m okay for now,” she says. “Mika will look over everything until I can get back. Charles can’t stay there forever.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane nods in agreement. “We’ll figure it out.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Then Imane takes a step back and surveys the rest of the deck, looking at the crew in front of them, checking to make sure everyone is there, he’s sure. Eliott tries to ignore the noticeable absence that throbs at his heart. But he should have known he wouldn’t be the only one who feels the hole Lucas leaves behind.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Wait, what about Lucas?” Yann shouts from behind them. Eliott stiffens. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Imane looks at him frantically and Eliott knows she wants him to say something. After all, he’d asked her to trust him but explained nothing. And she had, but that doesn’t mean it will work for the rest of the crew. Especially not for Yann.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He’s not coming,” Eliott tries, his voice wavering slightly on the words, hoping that will be enough.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it’s not, of course. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean he’s not coming?” Yann protests, stepping towards them with worry evident on his face. “We can’t just leave him here.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“We’re not leaving him,” Eliott snaps back and he notices how Yann’s eyes widen at his tone. It’s unusual for him, he knows. But he can’t help it right now. “He chose to stay behind.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He chose? I don’t buy that,” Yann continues but Eliott interrupts him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Look Yann, it doesn’t make sense, okay? I know that. But we don’t have time to go over it and figure it out right now. Lucas told me he’s not coming. And we need to go. That’s all I can say.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You’re welcome to stay with him if you wish.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Yann stays silent.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Okay then.” He turns to Imane. “Let’s go.”</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>The uncomfortable weight in Eliott’s chest refuses to go away, but he tries to breathe through it all the same. He focuses instead on putting as much distance as he can between the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> and Tortuga. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The water rolls out beneath them, the ship splitting miles beneath its hull, the sky wide and endless above them and Eliott tightens his grip on the wheel. It’s a place he normally feels free and at peace, but now it just makes him feel lonelier. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He doesn’t let anyone else take over for several hours. He normally does, normally passes off the helm to Arthur or Alexia once they’re in the open ocean. But today he needs to feel like he’s in control of something, that something is going the way he wants it to, so he stays there, quiet and unmoving as the sun reaches the peak of its journey and continues down to the sea.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He can see the confusion on deck amongst the rest of the crew. He catches Yann looking at him a few times and knows he’s probably desperate to understand. But maybe he gets it too – he recalls Lucas telling him that he’d just kind of disappeared from New Providence after a while, not really explaining much to Yann before he was gone. Eliott shakes his head. He’s not sure why he thought this would be any different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Regardless, Eliott’s not sure he could talk about it yet, even if he wanted to. It hurts and it’s embarrassing, the way he’d bared his soul just to be turned down. Not that it wasn’t well within Lucas’ right, but he just doesn’t understand how he could say all the things he said, act the way he acted, if it didn’t mean something more to him. And that’s really the part that hurts.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And despite the frustration he feels and the anger toward Lucas, he can’t help but worry about him. Eliott knows it was what Lucas wanted, but somehow leaving him behind on the island when the wounds were still fresh feels like a worse and worse decision as time ticks on. Uneasiness has transformed into guilt that gnaws at his chest, and then the frustration at himself for worrying so much about someone who doesn’t worry about him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s nearing midnight when Idriss finally appears and forces him to take a break.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You need to sleep,” Idriss whispers, concern evident on his face. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott knows he’s right. He’s exhausted. He can’t believe how much has happened in less than a day. But he’s worried that as soon as the ship doesn’t have his focus, thoughts about Lucas and Munier and everything that happened will overwhelm him and hurt even worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s about to protest before he sees the look on Idriss’ face and he knows the break is non negotiable.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Arthur will take over,” Idriss says. “Please just rest.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott feels himself nodding, his fingers stiff as he lets go of the wheel. “Okay,” he says. “Okay.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waits for the thoughts to overwhelm him, for the guilt to rise up, but it doesn’t. Maybe it’s the calm of the sea or the way his eye immediately finds Polaris as he looks up, strong and steady and bright in the night or the tiredness that clings to him, but his mind stays quiet as he makes his way to his cabin. He falls on the cot immediately, not bothering to undress, and somehow, mercifully, he drifts off into a dreamless sleep.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Waking up is much harder. The days that follow are worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott feels like he’s been hit with a ton of bricks, his chest heavy and his head throbbing. It reminds him of the worst kind of hangover, the kind that makes you want to roll over and bury your head under the blankets and sleep the whole day through. Only there’s something sharper, an acute pain that jolts him awake when he finds himself in his half-awake state reaching across the cot to find a body that isn’t there. It’s his heart breaking.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because that’s what it is. Because despite what Eliott had been telling himself, he’d been planning a future with Lucas almost the minute that he laid eyes on him across the tavern. There had been something about him that pulled Eliott in, the rough, careful person who’d opened up and showed Eliott how thoughtful and soft he could be. Or so he thought. But it had only been that way in Eliott’s head. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It eats at him as he tries to keep them on course. But they’re heading towards nowhere, lost and without direction as they regroup and try to figure out where to go next. They’ll need supplies soon, but Eliott can barely focus on keeping them steady in one direction much less coordinate an interception with another ship. And the thought of fighting a crew without Lucas by his side sends a sharp pang through him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s been two days since they left Tortuga when Eliott is awoken by a soft knock on his door. The first thing he notices when he opens his eyes is that it’s late in the morning and he quickly jumps out of bed pulling on a loose shirt and some pants, assuming that the knock is someone sent by Imane to make sure he’s awake.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Come in,” he responds, his voice still laced with sleep as he sits back down on the bed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The door pushes open to reveal Idriss who looks at him with tentative concern.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Hey,” Idriss says, coming into the room and shutting the door behind him. “Just wanted to see how you were doing.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There’s a quiet kind of worry in his voice that Idriss has perfected over the years. The kind that makes Eliott know he’s there to help him if he needs it but isn’t overbearing. Eliott knows he’s been off these past few days, but he hasn’t been able to talk to anyone about it. It’s just that he feels embarrassed and confused and hurt and sometimes when you’re feeling all of that at once it hurts just a little too much to unpack it from where it’s stored beneath your ribs and really acknowledge how it made you feel.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But the last thing Eliott wants to do is keep Idriss worrying.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I’m okay,” Eliott says, swinging one of his legs up as he does up his boot. He’s grateful to have a task to focus on instead of being forced to look at Idriss.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Are you sure?” Idriss presses.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott takes a breath long and deep before looking up at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Fine,” he says, giving in, “I’m not okay. Not right now. But I will be.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Is there anything I can do?” Idriss asks him. “Are you feeling like it might get worse?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott shakes his head. He knows what Idriss is looking for – the signs that whatever unknown sickness that has plagued him for the past several years is rearing up again. But Eliott has already taken inventory of himself, looking for the signs that he’s come to know well and he’s come up empty. This is different.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s not that,” Eliott says. “Really, it’s just everything that happened with Lucas.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Idriss looks him over for a moment but then seems to accept it, nodding, before he adds: “If you ever want to talk about that, you could talk about it with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Eliott says. He sighs, looking down at his lap. “It just hurts.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I know,” Idriss says. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I just can’t believe I ever trusted him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What do you mean?” Idriss replies. Eliott knows that Imane probably told him about Richelieu but he hasn’t really explained everything Lucas had said to him the last time they spoke. And if he’s being honest, that’s what hurts worse.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s partly that his father is...well…”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Richelieu,” Idriss fills in, nodding.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Which, after everything I had told him about our families, stung,” Eliott says. “But the worst part was hearing him tell me that he didn’t care about me, at least in the way I wanted him to. That he’d been planning to leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He told you that?” Idriss asks quietly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott shrugs. “In a way, yes. It’s just that, from everything he said I could tell he wasn’t in love with me.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“And you’re in love with him?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods miserably, looking back down at his lap. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Well then he’s a fool who doesn’t deserve you,” Idriss says. “You’re one of the best people I know. And no matter what happened, it’s good that it meant something to you.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott shakes his head. “I wish it didn’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You don’t mean that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I do,” Eliott protests, “because then it wouldn’t hurt as much as it does.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“But eventually it won’t. It will take time but eventually it won’t.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Do you promise?” Eliott asks. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Yes,” Idriss says. “Now come on. You have a ship to sail.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott smiles gratefully and nods, getting up to follow Idriss out the door before he pauses, moving to grab his coat off the chair where he’d left it a few days ago. Only, as he picks it up and swings it through the air, something heavy falls from it and hits the floor.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What was that?” Idriss asks, but Eliott can barely hear him. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because there on the floor is Lucas’ compass. The one he’d always worn around his neck. The one his mother had given him, the last thing she’d ever given him. And it’s here, having just fallen out of Eliott’s pocket. Which can only mean one thing – that Lucas had put it there.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It belonged to Lucas,” Eliott says, barely breathing.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Why do you have it then?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I don’t know,” Eliott says as he leans down to pick it up.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It’s fallen face down, having popped open when it hit the floor. It looks old, and Eliott remembers how Lucas’ eyes had grown misty when he told him the story, how his fingers had often traced the chain around his neck. But Eliott has never seen it open before. Lucas had always treated it so gently, like he was afraid that it would break at any moment, that he might lose it forever. So Eliott is entirely confused as to what it’s doing here, why Lucas would give it to him, especially after everything he’d said.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott picks it up gingerly, feeling the weight of it in his palm as he turns it over, takes in the old painted face and the needle that is clearly broken. But then there, on the right side, tucked into the corner, is an old folded up piece of paper. At first Eliott wonders if Lucas had written him a letter. Perhaps he’d never intended to leave Tortuga with them, and had left him a note before everything with Munier had happened. But it doesn’t explain why he’d given him the compass as well and the paper looks far too old for that.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Unless...but no, it can’t be.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott pulls the paper from the corner and then pulls the chain over his head to let the compass fall against his sternum. He unfolds the paper slowly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No fucking way,” Idriss says in disbelief behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It can’t be,” Eliott agrees.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>But it must be, Eliott knows. There’s no mistaking the age and the markings and the way the outlines perfectly match with ones Eliott has spent months tracing. It’s the last piece of the map. The thing they’d been searching for.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And Lucas had given it to him.</span>
</p>
<p> </p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott is rushing up the stairs and across the deck toward Imane’s office, Idriss closely following, when Yann steps into their path.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Where did you get that?” Yann asks sternly, confusion evident on his face.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Not now, Yann,” Idriss says sternly, meaning to step around him but Yann takes another step, blocking their path again.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, answer the question. Where did you get that?” Yann asks again, pointing now to the compass hanging around Eliott’s neck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I–” Eliott starts, but Yann interrupts him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“It’s Lucas’,” he says. “I know because he showed it to me once and told me it was his most important possession. He would never give that up. So where did you get it?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Lucas gave it to me,” Eliott says weakly. His mind is still racing with the discovery, his only thought getting to Imane to show her.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He gave it to you?” Yann asks, incredulous, before he seems to realize something. “You are so stupid.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What?” Eliott chokes out. </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He told you to leave him didn’t he? He said something that made you leave.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott nods. “He told me he didn’t care about me. Or the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“That self-sacrificing idiot,” Yann exclaims, shaking his head. “Whatever he said, it’s not true.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“How do you know?” </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I once watched Lucas nearly run someone through with his sword for even suggesting that he wanted that compass. That compass means more to him than anything else in the world so if he gave that to you, then he must care about you more. Much more than you probably even know.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It takes a second for Eliott to even register what Yann is saying. No, it can’t be. Had Lucas really lied to protect him, to protect all of them and then given him the thing that meant the most to him and the thing Eliott had been searching for this whole time? Eliott hadn’t even realized Lucas knew about the map, but it’s possible. And from everything Eliott knows about Lucas, it never seemed like he wanted anything to do with his father. In fact, it seems like he had spent quite a lot of time running away from him. But he must know how dangerous he could be, how dangerous Munier could be, so he gave up all those years of running for the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>, for Eliott.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>And somehow, hearing it from Yann is all the convincing he needs. It’s all he needs to hear to make his next decision.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Because it gives him hope. And hope, once rooted, grows quickly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He looks up, spotting Imane making her way toward them across the deck.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I got everything wrong,” Eliott shouts at her, excitement and worry and love all running together through his heart. “About Munier and about Lucas. We have to go find him.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“What are you talking about?” Imane shouts back, the salt air swirling around them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eliott breathes it in, notices that the sea is exactly the color of Lucas’ eyes the first night they kissed. He can’t let him go.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“He was trying to save us,” he says, shaking his head. “But now we need to save him.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>thank you for reading! hope you enjoyed it 💙</p>
<p>kudos and comments are greatly appreciated or you can send me a message on tumblr <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Zephyrus: Part 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm so sorry for the wait y'all. Life is a lot right now but writing and posting these chapters are definitely a bright spot. Thank you for sticking with me!!</p><p>tw for some really brief negative descriptions of mental illness from Charles (let me know if there's anything else I should tag!)</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em>
    <span>Lucas</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas tries to sit as still as possible as Munier paces in front of him. He watches out the windows of the ship as the sea rolls on behind them, miles now from the shores of Tortuga. Miles, he hopes, from the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>. And Eliott. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The thought of him makes his heart clench, but Lucas steels himself against it. He hopes beyond anything else that Eliott had found the compass and what was inside. And that now they’re all heading there to secure a future where they won’t have to worry about anything anymore. Where they can be safe and happy and free. That had been the reason he’d done everything that way that morning, from the moment he saw the initials on the notebook and realized just what kind of situation they were in. It was then he knew he had to make a choice. And he’d chosen to save Eliott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They’re waiting for word from Munier’s navigator for signs of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s no match for Eliott – it was one of the first things Lucas had noticed, rather smugly when he’d been dragged onboard. And after all those months, Lucas knows their head start would make them practically unfindable without Lucas’ help. And Lucas is not about to help, not that Munier had expected it anyway. Though that doesn’t stop him from threatening Lucas every so often.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A year ago, hell, even up to a few months ago, Lucas knows he’d be looking around the room frantically for ways to escape, for weapons he could make or use against Munier and his crew, anything that could help him in his quest for self-preservation. But it’s different now. Somehow, subtly, that selfish instinct had slipped away in favor of helping Eliott. Of doing what he could to save him. And for now that plan requires him here, messing with Munier as they sail into nothingness. The escape will have to come when Munier inevitably tries to return him to his father, but that won’t be for weeks. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the one time Lucas has actually liked having the Richelieu name – Munier can’t touch him. Not without his father’s permission. Which, Lucas is sure would come if given the chance, but out here on the open sea they’re completely cut off. So for now he’s relatively safe, to a point. He hasn’t let his guard down completely, but he’s trying not to let those familiar feelings of hopelessness take over. The ones he’d run away from all those years ago. The ones that his father, and men like Munier had made him feel. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Munier sits down heavily at his desk, knocking a book aside, and Lucas steels himself, trying not to flinch at the sound of it hitting the floor. At that moment, there’s also a knock at the door and Munier looks up calling out for the person to come in. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy who opens the door looks young, barely old enough to be out on his own. A cabin boy, no doubt, the son of one of his father’s wealthy merchant friends placed on a boat to start his career on the sea early. The boy looks nervous as he steps into the room. Lucas doesn’t blame him. He can imagine that being Munier’s servant isn’t a pleasant experience.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Yes, what is it boy?” Munier snaps, looking at him expectantly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Mar– Martin hasn’t found anything,” the boy stammers. “He says they’re like ghosts, completely disappeared.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first thing that has made Lucas feel at all better in the last few hours. It’s good, exactly what he did everything for. He wanted them to disappear, be able to get away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But it’s clearly not what Munier wanted to hear. He makes a garbled sound of frustration before picking up a glass object and throwing it at the wall near where the boy stands. It smashes to pieces as the boy flinches but doesn’t move. Something drops in Lucas’ stomach as he recognizes the face of a boy being taught to weather tempers. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Well go and tell Martin that I expect him to keep looking, do you hear me?” Munier says gruffly. “They have something of mine, and we need to get it back.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The boy doesn’t need to be told twice, jumping to attention at Munier’s orders and scampering out the door, shutting it behind him. Lucas wonders how many times this boy has had to be the bearer of bad news and take the brunt of Munier’s anger. He can’t help but hope this boy will be able to make it out before it changes him for the worst.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But he doesn’t have long before Munier rounds on him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You think this is funny?” he sneers, no doubt catching the traces of relief on Lucas’ face. And no, he doesn’t find it funny, but it is intensely satisfying to know that Munier’s crew is no match for Eliott’s skill on the water. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas stays silent. He hasn’t said more than a few words since Munier caught up to him initially and took him on board. And he has no intention of starting now.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Munier leans in close, making his face level to Lucas where he’s bound to the chair. “I know you think you’ve done something smart, but I will find them no matter what, do you hear me?” He pauses, letting the low tone echo around the room. “I don’t care if I have to wait for them to find the treasure and intercept them on their journey back. I want what’s rightfully mine.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the only phrase Lucas has been saying, whenever Munier tries to bring it up. To his credit, Munier isn’t stupid – never has been – and figured out quickly what Eliott must have been after in that room. But what Eliott hadn’t known and what Munier surely did if he was his father’s right-hand is that Munier didn’t have that missing piece. Lucas had stolen it when he left those few years before. And they’ve been covering it up ever since.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s just like his father to never admit to a fault.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Munier just stares at him, loathing evident on his face. He was never a kind person, but he’s been corrupted by years working as his father’s right hand, no doubt hearing all kinds of stories placing blame on Lucas, blaming him for distracting from the business or undoubtedly from preventing Munier from getting the portion of the famed treasure he’d been promised for helping his father retrieve it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Keep that lying up and we’ll see where that lands you,” Munier says softly, the threat evident in his tone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You can’t do anything without asking my father first,” Lucas says defiantly, willing his voice to stay steady as Munier looms over him. “You’ve never been able to.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That seems to hit – hard – Munier’s lip curling at the words until his face is stuck in a grimace. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve been gone a long time,” he says slowly, delicately adjusting the sleeves of his coat. “I wouldn’t be so confident. And besides–” he pauses, looking directly into Lucas’ eyes, “accidents happen all the time on the sea.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas understands the implication. It’s not subtle. But he won’t be deterred.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Do whatever you want to me,” he says fiercely, matching Munier’s expression with the same fire, “but I will never give you what you want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Munier raises an eyebrow. “And why’s that?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas almost answers, but he manages to stop himself, snapping his mouth shut. He won’t give Munier the satisfaction.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But Munier knows anyway. Lucas knew he did. He rolls his eyes.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“For him? Eliott Demaury?” Munier asks. Lucas flinches. He didn’t realize Munier recognized Eliott much less knew his name. “Really? You don’t even know him.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas wants to shout that he does, he does know him. That Munier can’t possibly know what they mean to each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>What they meant to each other.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Your silence is so noble,” Munier mocks before smirking. It’s the kind of smirk like he knows something Lucas doesn’t, like he has something to hold over him. But Lucas can’t imagine what they could be. He’s lost everything now. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You always were too close to your mother,” Munier continues, straightening up to walk back toward his desk. “Gave you the wrong idea about people like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>. I shouldn’t really be surprised.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas hates how he says it, hates how Munier brings up his mother like it’s nothing, like it doesn’t make his heart twist in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you dare talk about my mother,” Lucas says, gritting his teeth. He doesn’t understand how they even got here, how she was brought into this, but he shouldn’t be surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I can do whatever I want,” Munier laughs, looking at Lucas with a somewhat amused expression on his face. “Which you should realize seeing as you’re the one tied to a chair.” He pauses, looking at him. “No matter, if you refuse to give me anything useful, I don’t have any need for you here. We’ll put you somewhere more comfortable while you think it over.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He walks over to his door and signals to two of his crew who immediately jump to attention and come into the room, walking over to Lucas and grabbing his arms, untying the restraints and pulling him from the chair.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let us know when you feel more talkative,” Munier says and gives him a small wave as the men drag him out of the room.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The cell is damp and cold and dark. It’s an original piece of the ship, Lucas recognizes, insurance for a situation in which the crew might have to take prisoners, but it hasn’t been updated since. And Lucas can tell the crew isn’t often down here, if they can help it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s one small porthole in the corner of the cell, and a bar-lined window out into a corridor, with a chair settled beneath it, though Lucas isn’t sure what for. A watch perhaps, though he’s been left mostly alone in the days he’s been in here. The bars around the window are rusted and make escape an impossibility, even if Lucas had anywhere to go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>All things considered, it could be worse. He’s only seen a rat or two, which is rather impressive considering how close he is to the food stores. And the porthole, although small, does let in some light meaning that even without a candle, he’s not left in total darkness. And, he’s been allowed to keep his coat, which he’s thankful for at night as he wraps himself up and braces for the chill that seeps through the wooden planks against his back.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Munier might not admit it, but there’s restraint in his actions. Restraint that likely comes from fear at what his father might do if Munier acts rashly. Though Lucas isn’t deluding himself. It’s far less about being Richelieu’s son and much more about the public image and him being their last ties to the mythical treasure they’ve been searching for for years. And Lucas will use that leverage as long as he has it.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Night begins to descend on the small room and Lucas feels a shiver run through him as he pulls the coat tighter around him. He finds himself wishing for the rich blue coat Eliott had given him – the kind of soft luxury he’d never been expecting but had meant so much just the same. The thick fabric, Eliott’s sheepish smile as he handed it to him, the warmth he’d felt from the gesture, and then the coat, and then Eliott’s embrace– </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas feels his heart sink. That’s over now. And it’s okay because it’s what needed to happen and if given the chance, Lucas would make the same decision over and over again if it meant saving Eliott. He doesn’t have any regrets.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>And yet it still hurts. His heart pangs painfully as if to remind him of the way he’d only ever been able to feel around Eliott. The way he’d been truly happy for the first time in years. The way he had loved Eliott and the way, he hopes, Eliott had loved him back. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas glances toward the porthole as the last bit of sun finally disappears. The room is dark, save for what must be a bright moon reflecting in off the sea. Lucas aches for those evenings aboard the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>, Eliott at his shoulder as he pointed out the stars. He wraps the memories tightly around him like a shield. It’s something Munier will never know, something he can never take away. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He stands, walking over to glance out at the sea, taking in the waves as they glint in the moonlight and then turning his gaze toward the sky. The porthole is small, barely as large as his face and it’s by miraculous chance then, that Lucas’ gaze settles on Ursa Major, blinking brightly above the horizon. He feels his breath catch in his throat as he imagines Eliott tracing out shapes in the sky and making it into something akin to art. And then there–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Polaris– </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas wonders if Eliott is looking at it too – the star that never moves, that stays constant as the world spins around it. The star you can always trust to be there, the star that never fades. Lucas closes his eyes and finds himself wishing that if Eliott is out there, somewhere on the sea, that he knows how loved he is. That he realizes how worthy he is of the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It had been horrible to hurt him, to see Eliott’s face fall as he lied to him about his feelings as he desperately tried to figure out how to get Eliott as far away as possible. But he had done what he had to do. He just hopes Eliott had figured it out and that one day, despite everything, he’ll be happy.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Because the moment he realized what Eliott was looking for, was the moment Lucas knew exactly what he had to do.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I know,” Munier is saying and Lucas is trying to wrack his brain to figure out just what it is Munier thinks he knows. How could he know anything about them? How would Munier, cold and cruel and selfish, even begin to think he understands what Eliott and Lucas are to each other. Munier who, like his father, probably doesn’t even know he has a heart to use.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But then Munier adds, “what you’re looking for.” What they’re looking for? Munier has clearly gone somewhere that Lucas can’t follow. Not yet, not now because the pieces of his life have so diverged it takes him a beat to connect them again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But then he looks. And he sees the frantic look on Eliott’s face for the pieces to all slide into place. Munier’s room. The fascination with Richelieu and the secret meetings. Lucas’ fingers find the chain around his neck and he fidgets with it nervously. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Of course. How could he have missed it? All the signs were there, everything pointing to something they were working towards, a promise of some kind that kept them going. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They were after the map. Just like his father had been. Just like his father likely still is. And momentarily Lucas is impressed they’ve all made it this far, knowing the odds they’re up against. Knowing the kind of person his father is. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>His heart drops to his stomach. Because he knows exactly the kind of person his father is and what he’s done to get the pieces of the map he has already. He’s ruthless, always has been. It’s what made him successful in a world like this, the kind of careless cruelty that makes it so you are able to only think about yourself and not worry about anything else. It’s horrifying.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Which is why Lucas knows exactly the kind of danger Eliott is in. The kind of danger the entire crew of the Black Rose is in. And he can’t sit idly by and let them face it. He won’t. He was helpless to watch his mother fade away, but he won’t be so passive again. Let his father get to him for all he cares. But he doesn’t get Eliott. He doesn’t get to destroy his home for the second time, even if Lucas never gets to see it again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He vaguely listening as Munier continues his rant, trying to figure out how to get them out of here, how to make an escape and get Eliott as far away as he can. But then Eliott reacts in a way that Lucas hasn’t seen before, with a calm and calculated demeanor of someone who knows what they’re doing. It surprises him. Eliott is the only person who has always been able to do that.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>When Eliott turns around to face him as Munier collapses to the floor, the competing threads in Lucas’ heart lash out because he can see the hurt on Eliott’s face. The hurt from hearing a dark secret from the lips of an enemy rather than the person you trusted. And for a minute all the thoughts and plans he’d just decided on are forgotten because all Lucas wants to do is explain, to get Eliott to hear him, to understand why Lucas never told him in the first place.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Because the truth is, Lucas hates that Richelieu is his father. Technically, because he hasn’t been a father to Lucas in years. And Lucas doubts Richelieu thinks of him as a son except in the way that he’s tied to the family name so his actions reflect on it. It’s one of the reasons Lucas started using his mother’s name. The other was to feel closer to her.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>What he wants to say, as Eliott pulls him out onto the street, as his hand holds Lucas’ tightly, as they duck into the narrow alley behind the shops, is please see me. Please understand that this doesn’t change anything. That he’s not family to Lucas, never has been, and Lucas has spent years trying to run as far away from his legacy as he could. But it seems like it always catches up to him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You promised you wouldn’t see me differently,” Lucas says quietly, overcome by the look on Eliott’s face. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But then Eliott closes his eyes and turns away from him and the compass bangs against his chest and Lucas reminds himself of what he has to do. The only way to make all of this right. To save Eliott from Munier and his father’s wrath. To save the </span>
  </em>
  <span>Black Rose</span>
  <em>
    <span>. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But it doesn’t stop his heart from shattering into a million pieces as the thoughts assemble in his mind. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>He pulls the compass from his neck and hides it in his palm. Eliott and the rest of the crew deserve it more than anyone else he’s ever known. Lucas had only taken the piece of the map from his father’s study when he left to keep him from it. It’s hung from his neck inside his mother’s compass since. And now, he’s going to give it to Eliott.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I never meant for it to go so far,” Lucas hears himself saying, but it’s like he’s not there, not actually saying the words.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>Eliott tries to protest, tries to understand, but Lucas keeps shutting it down. He needs Eliott to believe he didn’t care enough to leave him behind. Lucas needs to stay here to keep an eye on Munier, to stop him from following them, and Eliott needs to go. But Lucas knows he’d never leave him as long as he thought they were on the same page. It’s one of the things Lucas loves about him.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>There are more words that come but Lucas can’t quite hear what he’s saying. It’s short, and mean, and he tries to will his face to stay neutral, but the effort has it turning sour.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I think it’s always meant more to you than it did to me.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>It’s the first time Lucas has outright lied to Eliott. It makes him dizzy and he wants to take it back right away. But he can’t. This is how it has to be.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“You need to go,” he manages to get out, but only because he refuses to look at Eliott. He’s afraid that seeing his face will break his resolve.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“Go?” Eliott asks him. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And this is his change. It’s the only one he’ll get. Lucas steps forward and grabs Eliott's jacket as he tells Eliott that he needs to leave. And that he is staying behind. </span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>But as he speaks his hands travel down and he slips the compass into Eliott’s coat pocket. It’s seamless and Eliott doesn’t even feel the change – the years of pickpocketing suddenly being useful again.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And then Eliott gets angry, which Lucas understands so he tries to tune it out, not let Eliott break his resolve. But he comes close. Several times. And then Eliott says that Lucas doesn’t care and Lucas can’t help himself because nothing could be further from the truth. And hopefully one day Eliott will understand that. Even without Lucas by his side.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>“I do care, Eliott,” Lucas says, his heart breaking even more with every word. “Just not in a way that’s fair to you.”</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>They were just not meant to be together this time around. And it hurts now, but it’s for the best.</span>
  </em>
</p><p>
  <em>
    <span>And the worst part is he’s forced to watch as Eliott leaves him. Even if it is what he was trying to do.</span>
  </em>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The memory of their last conversation still stings in Lucas’ mind, still hangs heavy on his heart. But Lucas can’t help but be relieved as he thinks of everything the treasure will bring them, will bring Eliott and everyone else on that ship who’ve spent their entire lives searching for something permanent. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He imagines Eliott finding the compass in his jacket, finding the paper stuck inside and realizing what it is– </span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s the first thing that makes him smile in days. He thinks about Eliott sailing them through the water to their promised future, finding the treasure, taking it aboard and then starting the lives they’ve always wanted. Lucas can only wish that he was there to see it. But he’ll have to settle for helping them get there. And that’s okay too. He would make that choice again and again if it meant saving Eliott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It was never really a choice to begin with. It was always what he was going to do. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>As the moon falls behind some clouds and his cell grows dark, Lucas thinks about the future Eliott might have. The one with the little cottage overlooking the sea. The one where he’s surrounded by people who love him, who make him feel safe and happy. The one where he won’t want for anything and Lucas will have done something good for once. Helped someone instead of hurting them. He was too late to help his mother, but this time he got it right. And really, that’s all he could hope for.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>It takes several hours, but eventually Lucas falls into a fitful sleep. He’s always had problems with sleeping, especially in the past few years when he always felt like he was looking over his shoulder, just waiting to be found. In fact, the only time he’s slept through the night are the nights he spent with Eliott, when Eliott would hold him and all his fears would melt away.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When he wakes in the morning, to a small dish of some unnameable substance being pushed through a slot in the door, the tiredness hasn’t left him. But it’s the kind he’s not sure can be cured by sleep. It’s the kind that comes with bad situations, the kind that comes when you feel like you can’t breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas eats the food in silence. It doesn’t taste bad – doesn't really taste like anything –  and he knows if he’s ever going to escape he has to keep up his strength. That’s the plan for now, head down, make sure to distract Munier long enough to give Eliott and the rest of the crew of the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> the time to retrieve the treasure and get far enough away to disappear, and then run when the opportunity presents itself. It’s what he’s always done. And he trusts there will be an opportunity eventually because Munier is too bold to think anyone would dare disobey him. Lucas just has to get him to let his guard down just a bit and then he can go.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Not that he has a place to run to, but he can still run. Just keep moving, never in one place for too long, no ties. It kept him alive this long and it’s the only thing that he can think to do. He’s alone. Again.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>(Even if he could find Eliott, who’s to say he’d even want him. Those last lingering words, the pain on Eliott’s face – Lucas can imagine he’s the last person that Eliott will be thinking of, that last person he’d want to see again. That bridge is burned, ruined, but it’s for the best. It’s what he had to do.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>When Munier sends someone to retrieve him, Lucas isn’t surprised. It’s become his daily routine: keep Lucas locked up away from everyone else, bring him up for a few hours just to taunt him as if he’ll eventually break and reveal anything, and then send him away in disgust a few hours later when he refuses to give him what he wants.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s all a game to him and at this point Lucas is more than willing to play.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>This particular day, Munier seems to be leaning into insults about his father, as if that’s something that has ever swayed Lucas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He sits, stoically, watching out the back window at the waves and the gray sky swirled with clouds and Munier speaks at him, mocking him, taunting him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What do you think your father is going to do once he sees what you’ve become?” Munier says as he polishes his sword like that’s an intimidation tactic that would ever work on Lucas.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You saw how he reacted with your mother,” he continues, and Lucas knows he’s trying to get a rise out of him, but still he remains impassive, trying to decide if a storm is brewing or if the grey will fade into blue.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I mean the lengths he had to go to to stop her from ruining the family name. I pity him, I do. And now, with a son like you. So ungrateful, so spoiled, acting like he didn’t give you everything. Not everyone is so lucky.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucky. </span>
  <em>
    <span>Lucky.</span>
  </em>
  <span> Lucas wants to scoff, or perhaps laugh or maybe neither. It’s ridiculous and wrong, but it’s the narrative he’s been fed his entire life. He should be </span>
  <em>
    <span>grateful</span>
  </em>
  <span>, and somehow accept everything awful along with it, as if the two could never be separated, as if it was never an option for his father to be a good man too.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But again, he stays silent.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>But maybe he should have known it was only a matter of time before Munier brought </span>
  <em>
    <span>him</span>
  </em>
  <span> up, knowing it was newly sensitive, something that could finally get him what he wanted.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“And my god, that you became a </span>
  <em>
    <span>pirate</span>
  </em>
  <span> of all things and then, on top of that, you were with a </span>
  <em>
    <span>man</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” Munier shakes his head, like it’s the worst thing he could imagine. It probably is, seeing as it’s everything against the way Munier sees the world.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He goes on. “And </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span> man at that. Did you not hear the stories, or were you too busy looking for the next way to humiliate your father to even think about your own wellbeing?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas doesn’t know what he means, but he doesn’t care. Munier doesn’t get to talk about Eliott like that. Doesn’t get to talk about Eliott at all as far as he’s concerned.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You don’t know what you’re talking about,” Lucas says sharply.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I think I know plenty,” Munier replies. “More than I ever wanted to know anyway–”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’re the one who keeps bringing him up!”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Munier smirks. “Well, yes, that’s true, but it gets you talking.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas clamps his mouth shut.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“So, are you going to tell me where that map leads or are we going to just do this all over again tomorrow?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas turns his head, meeting Munier’s eyes for the first time since he was brought into the room. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Let me make something clear,” he says slowly, voice low. “I will </span>
  <em>
    <span>never</span>
  </em>
  <span> tell you what you want to know. Nothing is going to change that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Munier looks disappointed for a moment, but it’s only a moment before the expression disappears and his face hardens again. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“We’ll see,” he says finally, turning away from Lucas once again. “Well no point in keeping you up here then. I’ve had enough of hearing about things that don’t matter.”</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>A storm breaks that night. First the sky turns dark and the clouds hide the stars. And then the rain starts.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>The storm is brutal and unyielding and tosses the ship through the waters like it’s nothing more than a toy. Lucas feels like his cell is made of glass, like the ship might be broken at any moment, and he’ll have no way to escape. He hardly sleeps, though sleeping would be rather impossible in the violent gale around them and he can’t help but wish for a comforting embrace, a warm bed, and a voice whispering that it will be alright into his hair. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>When the sea finally settles, Lucas is almost surprised to find that everything seems to be okay. As the storm pulls back and a gentle rain sets in, Lucas finds himself lulled to sleep by the exhaustion overtaking him and the gentle rocking of the ship as waves return to normal. The last thing he thinks of is the gray-blue of the water and fingertips on his cheek.</span>
</p><p> </p><p>
  <span>The next morning Lucas is awoken, not to the waves or the crew moving above him, but to shouts and the sound of a gun firing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He’s on alert immediately. The sounds aren’t foreign to him, and they’ve become even more familiar in the past months he’d spent aboard the </span>
  <em>
    <span>Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span>. But Lucas has never been on the receiving end of such a thing. He’d always been on the attack, on the side that takes the opponent by surprise.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He hears some more shouting and the sounds of footsteps running overhead and it becomes even clearer – someone has come after them, has targeted Munier’s ship, and they aren’t stopping.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas pulls himself to his feet and moves to the small window to look out at the water. The ocean seems calm today, the sun bright. The thought brings him back to Yann telling him, that first day, that this weather, bright and clear, is the best for a fight. It makes his chest ache.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can’t see any disturbance from his small window – in all likelihood, the other ship is approaching from the other side, meaning to pull up along Munier’s ship and board it. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Briefly, Lucas feels his heartbeat rise, and he realizes that for the first time in days, he’s a little afraid. He doesn’t know who has come after them and here, locked in his cell, he’s at a complete loss to defend himself. He feels acutely the lack of his sword at his hip. He’s never felt so vulnerable.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas knows it’s probably pirates. By the sound of alarm on deck and the warning shots being fired, the ships’ relationship has already turned confrontational. And to have the gall to attack a ship as grand as Munier’s and with the flag he flies, you need to know what you’re doing, need to have done this to a thousand ships before. That does nothing to assuage Lucas’ nerves. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>He knows he could probably handle himself, knows that he’s a smooth talker when he wants to be and that the very nature of being locked in a cell will probably prove favorable if it comes time for defectors. And he’s worked on a pirate ship before, so it’s not like he’ll be completely clueless.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Though the ship he worked on was nothing like most of the others. Nothing like the stories he’s heard though maybe– </span>
</p><p>
  <span>(He immediately extinguishes the small spark of hope that rears up, the little part that wants to remind him that there is a ship he knows on the water. That perhaps, the aggressors aren’t strangers at all. But he can’t think like that, he can’t. They’re gone. It’s what Lucas wanted.)</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He tries the door. It’s locked, like he expected, but when he looks out into the corridor, he can’t see anyone.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Hey,” he shouts, trying to get someone’s attention, “What’s going on?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>There’s no answer. It’s not like he expected anything different, knowing the crew is likely all on deck or doing other things to prepare for battle that are away from where he’s being kept. But it still makes him feel uneasy like this, being abandoned and not being able to know what’s actually going on.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He steps back to the corner of his cell as the first cannon fires. He can feel the ship shake from the force and he realizes that his other fear is the ship will go down without anyone even bothering to look for him. That he could be stuck in here as things go south. He immediately begins scanning the cell for something, anything he could use to his advantage. There’s not much, save for a small metal bowl that had held his food the night before. He picks it up and waits, braced and facing the door.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He can hear when the other ship makes a connection. There’s a brief respite in the noise as things are put into position and then Lucas can hear the uproar as the two crews meet. There’s shouting and guns firing and the stamping of feet as they run above him and Lucas finds himself wondering when he’ll be found.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It doesn’t take long. The fight seems to be raging above him when he hears the first steps on the ladder near to him. It doesn’t sound like one of Munier’s men with their fancy boots that click across the planks as they walk, and Lucas tries to strain his eyes for any indication as to who might be approaching but he finds nothing. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>The steps come closer, closing the distance between the ladder and Lucas’ cell and Lucas finds himself wondering what the best course of action is. He could try and glance out the window in the door to figure out who’s coming toward him, but it doesn’t give him much time to regain his standing when the person inevitably tries to come through the door. In the end, he presses himself into the back corner, hoping to have some element of surprise when the door opens.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Sure enough, the steps continue to approach the door and then stop in front of it, as if considering. The person seems to fumble with something and then there’s a sound of metal grating on metal as they deal with the lock. It’s not a very strong one – Lucas had looked at it a few times on his walks up to the top deck as he was considering his escape options, but having no way to access it from the inside made it a no-go. But then again, Lucas can’t imagine it’s too common to want to break someone out rather than keep them locked in, so he’s not too surprised.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>His heart starts to race faster as the telltale clicks fall into place as the person does their handiwork. Whoever it is is a bit clumsy and slow, but eventually, they get the lock undone. Which only leaves a second for Lucas to take a deep breath and prepare himself as the door unlatches and swings open.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“There you are.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas nearly collapses. For a moment he thinks he must still be asleep, dreaming, because it’s the only explanation for the person standing in front of him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliott.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>They both stand silent for a moment, and although every muscle in Lucas’ body wants to jump into Eliott’s arms, his brain has quite caught up and he finds himself gaping at him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“What are you doing here?” he finally manages to get out.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliott smiles. That smile of his that’s like the sun. The one that always made Lucas feel so happy and safe. Like the past days had been nothing, like Lucas hadn’t ruined everything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Saving you,” Eliott says simply. “Did you think I wouldn’t?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas doesn’t know what to say to that. In fact, up until a few seconds ago that was </span>
  <em>
    <span>exactly</span>
  </em>
  <span> what Lucas thought. That was exactly what Lucas had intended when he said all those things back in Tortuga. He wants to know what changed, he wants to know a million things, but he can only manage a few words.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“How did you find me? The ship?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliott chuckles, taking a tentative step inside the cell and toward Lucas like he’s not quite sure how Lucas is going to react. “I’m better at my job than you seem to think.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Still, finding a ship in the middle of the ocean…”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I figured he’d be heading somewhere toward where the map dropped off – thank you for that by the way – and then we just tracked from there.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas stares at him, shakes his head and thinks back to the night before.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You sailed through the storm,” he says, quietly, his voice barely above a whisper as Eliott takes another step toward him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliott’s face turns somber. “Of course I did,” he says firmly, looking at Lucas with pleading eyes. “Lucas, of course I did.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>That’s enough. Lucas barely realizes what he’s doing as he reaches for him until Eliott sweeps him up in his arms, holding him so tight Lucas can hardly breathe.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Don’t you </span>
  <em>
    <span>ever</span>
  </em>
  <span> do anything like that again, do you hear me?” Eliott whispers into Lucas’ hair as Lucas clings to him, the beginning of tears forming in the corners of his eyes. “You don’t get to decide to sacrifice yourself for me. That’s not what I want.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He pulls back only so he can grasp the sides of Lucas’ face and look him straight in the eyes. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I want </span>
  <em>
    <span>you</span>
  </em>
  <span>,” he says, emphasizing the word as Lucas stares back at him. “Okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas can barely believe what he’s hearing. He can barely believe that Eliott is standing there in front of him but he feels himself nodding. When Eliott says it like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, when he looks at him like </span>
  <em>
    <span>that</span>
  </em>
  <span>, it’s so easy to believe. It’s so easy to know it’s true. Lucas feels his heart swell in his chest.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Now,” Eliott continues, not letting go of Lucas’ face. “What do you want?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas feels his face break into a smile as he looks back at Eliott. Lucas has never been more sure of anything.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliott kisses him.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It feels like coming home. Lucas can hear the fight raging above them, but it all seems to fade away as their lips press together and Eliott holds him, refusing to let go. Lucas lets it play over and over again in his head and they kiss. Eliott wants him. Despite everything, Eliott figured out the truth, found him and he still wants him. It’s everything he could have hoped for.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>He has more questions, more things he knows they should talk about, but all he can think about right now is Eliott,</span>
  <em>
    <span> Eliott, Eliott</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He twists his fingers through Eliott’s hair as they kiss, relishing the way he makes Eliott move his hand to Lucas’ hip, gently squeezing it. He turns his head slightly, feeling as Eliott pulls him closer, until–</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Are you serious?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>A tired voice breaks through the fog in Lucas’ mind and they pull apart only to find Idriss looking at them with a raised eyebrow.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“I get the reunion is special and all, but can this wait?” He gestures towards the ladder, up at the deck where the fight is still going on, wearing a fond but slightly exasperated expression. “You may not have noticed but there are some other things going on.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas smiles a little sheepishly as he steps back from Eliott. “Sorry Idriss,” he says placatingly. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliott doesn’t look sorry at all, but still he nods and agrees. “Let’s get off this ship.” He’s reaching for his sword as he seems to remember something. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Oh!” he says, undoing something from his belt, “brought you this.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>It’s one of Lucas’ swords, the one he left on the</span>
  <em>
    <span> Black Rose</span>
  </em>
  <span> when he thought he might still return. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Thought it might be useful.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas can only laugh a little as he takes the weapon from him, tying the belt around his waist and pulling the sword from its sheath.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Needed my help that badly?” he jokes, Eliott reaching out and tracing his cheekbone with his thumb. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>“You’ve always been the best,” Eliott replies. “Don’t pretend you don’t know that.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Focus!” Idriss interrupts again. “You can do that gross staring into each other’s eyes thing when we’re back on our own ship okay?”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Eliott raises his arms in a mock surrender. “Yes, sorry, let’s go.”</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Idriss shakes his head and turns to lead them all up the ladder and into the thick of it. Lucas moves to follow but Eliott stops him, looking at him once more before leaning in and kissing him softly.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>Then Eliott takes his hand, lacing their fingers together.</span>
</p><p>
  <span>“Ready?” Eliott asks him. </span>
</p><p>
  <span>Lucas smiles. “Always.”</span>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>we're getting really close the end now! what's going to happen to Charles? how is elu going to end up? hope you enjoyed this chapter and their reunion and I can't wait to share the rest! </p><p>kudos and comments are much appreciated and you can find me on tumblr <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a></p><p>sending y'all love!! 💛</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Hyperborea</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>hello y'all! I can't believe this is the last chapter. thank you all for sticking with me and I hope you enjoy this final part of the pirate au</p><p>cw for some ableist language from Charles and also for the section surrounded by "***" that has to do with the rating of this fic</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <em> Eliott </em>
</p><p>Lucas’ hand in his own feels heavier, somehow, than Eliott remembers. It grounds him, keeps him breathing, steady, as they climb the stairs, ready to burst out into what Eliott can only assume is a brawl. </p><p>He used to panic any time he was close to things like that – the violent raids, overwhelming and brutal were often too much for him, a side effect of his profession that made it all almost not worth it. And it’s not really that it’s changed so much as with Lucas here, by his side, loving him, he’s not as scared as he once was.</p><p>They follow Idriss up the stairs quickly, turning to look at each other for a moment right before Idriss throws open the hatch. Lucas must notice the hesitancy on his face, or the nervousness he feels, because he squeezes Eliott’s hand with his own and smiles at him, soft and reassuring. </p><p>It makes Eliott feel like he can take on the world.</p><p>They burst out onto the deck into chaos. Munier’s crew is young and sloppy, and it appears, rather unloyal to their leader, but the sight of the pirate flag has sent them fearfully spinning. They are less adept at fighting than the crew of the <em> Black Rose </em> – that much is clear – but they fight with a fervor that Eliott recognizes as fear, as the last thing they can think to do since they’ve been backed into a corner. And the <em> Black Rose </em> has not yet managed to get it under control. </p><p>Eliott’s eyes scan the deck. There doesn’t seem to be anyone seriously injured as far as he can tell, but he can’t find Munier anywhere. Lucas, next to him, seems to be looking for him as well.</p><p>He stops Alexia as she runs past heading for Imane and Daphne where they are trying to round up a group of sailors.</p><p>“Where’s Munier?” he shouts above the din. </p><p>“Where do you think?” Alexia scoffs, shifting her sword in her hand. “Bastard locked himself in his quarters the moment we boarded the ship. Coward.”</p><p>It’s not necessarily surprising news, but it gratifies him somewhat that Munier was scared to see him coming. That after all this time, he managed to get under the skin of one of Richelieu’s invincible men. </p><p>Alexia glances behind him, her face lighting up when she sees Lucas. Eliott understands.</p><p>“Oh Lucas!” she shouts, “I’m so glad to see you, well...alive.”</p><p>Lucas' mouth drops open slightly and he lets out a surprised laugh. </p><p>“Yeah,” he replies. “That was my preferred outcome as well.”</p><p>“It’s good for your boyfriend too,” Alexia says, smirking and nodding her head toward Eliott. “The Captain would have had his ass if we came all this way and you weren’t even here.”</p><p>“I knew he was going to be here,” Eliott protests. </p><p>“Sure.” Alexia nods. But then she leans in closer to Lucas and whispers, just loud enough that Eliott can make out the words. “I am really happy to have you back,” she says and then she kisses him roughly on the cheek and bounds away.</p><p>Eliott watches Lucas’ cheeks flush and knows how much that must mean to him after all the years he spent hiding from the people around him, not having a community...not having a family. And maybe this, all of this, in the end is just what they needed.</p><p>Eliott can’t help but lean over and press a kiss to Lucas’ temple, just where his hair curls out and is gratified to find Lucas looking up at him with his big eyes and beautiful smile. He notices, vaguely, as they stand there, that they haven’t stopped holding hands.</p><p>“I guess we’re heading to the captain’s quarters then,” Lucas says.</p><p>Eliott nods, watching Lucas’ eyes as something flashes in them, a fire of satisfaction lit from within. </p><p>“I suppose we are.”</p><p>And then, at almost the same time, they draw their swords and with one last glance at each other, they step out into the mayhem.</p><p>It’s not far, the space they have to travel across the deck to get to the door of the captain’s quarters, but in the confusion and disarray it feels much longer. People are running on all sides of them, lunging and missing and Eliott is somehow fending them off like he actually knows what he’s doing. </p><p>A young man lunges at his front and he parries the strike away. Another man runs towards him, but he manages to evade that strike as well and then strike back, sending the man flying across the deck.</p><p>Most of this newfound skill is courtesy, no doubt, of Lucas’ lessons. And, really, Lucas’ sphere of protection. For every man that Eliott fights off, Lucas somehow manages to fend off two or three. Eliott finds himself wishing he was a spectator instead so he could see Lucas in his element, watch the crease in his brow as he considers his steps, the clenching of his jaw as he swings his sword through the air.</p><p>It’s a testament though, to Lucas’ skill, and perhaps his pent-up anger, how quickly he manages to beat back the barriers to Munier. And that somehow, despite the metal slashing through the air, and shouts and commotion, Eliott doesn’t really feel in danger once. </p><p>Somehow, too, in the thick of it all, they manage to keep their hands clasped together. Hands strong against each other as they move across the deck. And maybe, in the end, that’s the thing that makes it all that much easier to face.</p><p>And then, all at once, they’re suddenly standing in front of Munier’s door and Eliott knows this is it. There is nothing left to do but find a way in and find a way to end this.</p><p> </p><p>It’s Lucas who gets through, but that isn’t even really a surprise anymore. The lock gives way quickly under Lucas’ practiced hands and before Eliott really has a chance to think about it, Lucas is pushing the door open.</p><p>And there Munier is, sitting haughtily behind his desk like the two of them are late for a meeting, trying to hold on to what shreds of power he still has. But Eliott sees something flash in his eyes as he takes in the sight of Eliott and Lucas before him, swords in hand, and Eliott knows in an instant that Munier is afraid, knows his upper hand isn’t what it used to be. </p><p>Lucas turns back and shuts the door behind them, blocking out the sounds of the fight outside. Part of Eliott wants to protest, wants to deal with Munier quickly and rejoin their friends to help them. But another part of him knows the crew will be fine and that they need to deal with him– Lucas needs to deal with him on his own if this is ever going to be truly over.</p><p>The silence stretches between them as Munier watches them, waiting for someone to make the first move. Eliott stays quiet and waits for Lucas to say something, set the tone for this encounter. But then Munier looks them up and down, noticing where their hands are still clasped together and his lip curls. </p><p>As if on instinct, Lucas drops Eliott’s hand and takes a step away from him. Eliott knows not to take it personally, knows that it’s the years Lucas had to put up with the judgement and treatment from his father and, he suspects, from Munier. And that’s without even thinking about what he’s gone through since they separated in Tortuga. Eliott knows it’s something they’ll have to discuss eventually, but for now, Eliott knows Lucas is fighting every urge in his body to turn and run away until this is all behind him. But that’s the thing about the sea. There’s no place to run.</p><p>“This could be over quickly if you just tell your men to stand down,” Lucas says finally, his voice smooth and even as he looks at Munier, but Eliott knows better, knows he must be using all his strength to stop himself from shaking. Eliott takes a step closer to him, to stand just behind him as if to say <em> I’m here, don’t forget that. </em></p><p>Munier just looks back. Several seconds pass before he huffs quietly and stands from his chair, turning to look out the wide windows behind him. It’s a power play, Eliott thinks, to turn his back to try and tell them that he doesn’t fear them. But he’s not as good of an actor as he seems to believe.</p><p>“That would make it easier, wouldn’t it?” Munier muses, turning back to face them. “But why should I do that?”</p><p>Lucas’ shoulders tense. “Because it’s the only way we all come out of this alive,” he says. “Your men are no match for the crew of the <em> Black Rose </em>.”</p><p>Munier pauses and leans against the window frame. “Maybe not,” he admits, “but then there really is no benefit for me to just give up. Because either way I fall on your mercy and I rather like it when I still have a chance of winning.”</p><p>“You have no chance of winning,” Eliott spits out quickly. “This isn’t a game. We came for Lucas and now we have him. So if you tell your men to stand down, we can all be on our way. There’s no need for more hurt and destruction.”</p><p>He’s not sure Lucas would agree with him, but he’s trying to find the easiest way to get out of here, everyone intact. As he stands and looks at Munier, that normal feeling of anger and a desire for revenge that always came when faced with Richelieu’s ships is replaced only by concern for Lucas and the rest of the crew’s safety. Eliott just wants it to be over.</p><p>But apparently Munier has other ideas.</p><p>He stays quiet for a moment, musing, closing his eyes as he appears to consider Eliott’s words. But when he opens them again, Eliott sees the truth in them. He has no intentions of letting them go quietly.</p><p>“I think you’ll find that Lucas is not the only thing that needs to be exchanged,” Munier says cooly, watching the two of them as he walks around his desk and sits on the edge. “I think you’ll find you have something of mine.”</p><p>Eliott feels Lucas tense next to him. He knows Munier must be referring to the piece of the map, the thing that could lead him to treasure.</p><p>“It doesn’t belong to you,” Lucas says lowly, his voice filled with a venom Eliott hasn’t heard before.</p><p>“Well it belongs to your father,” Munier counters, “and as he’s not here right now, I stand as a proxy for him. It doesn’t belong to you, and it definitely doesn’t belong to <em> him </em>.” He gestures at Eliott like it’s the most obvious thing in the world.</p><p>Lucas stands up straighter. Eliott has always been taller than him, but in that moment Lucas seems to tower over everyone in the room. </p><p>“It doesn’t belong to my father either,” he says. “It was my mother’s, passed down through her family. So after my father took it, I decided to take it right back.” He takes a step toward Munier. Eliott watches him shrink. “And what is that supposed to mean? That it doesn’t belong to Eliott. He deserves it much more than either one of us. He’s a better person than either of us ever will be. So I don’t know where you get off dictating who I can and can’t give my mother’s map to. Is that clear?”</p><p>The silence after Lucas’ speech is deafening. Eliott has half a mind to clap and the other to kiss him, fiercely, for the kindness he just gave him. But he does neither, instead watching between the two men for the first sign of weakness.</p><p>But as always, Munier has another trick up his sleeve. It’s one Eliott doesn’t see coming. One that feels like a sharp kick to the gut, a sharp punch to the side of his jaw.</p><p>Munier starts laughing. Laughing.</p><p>“I will never understand you,” he says, wiping fake tears from the corner of his eyes. “You could have had <em> everything </em> with your father, and yet you keep choosing to stick close to people who will only bring you down.”</p><p>“I told you to stop talking about my mother–”</p><p>“I’m not talking about your mother. I’m talking about him!” Munier points at Eliott. Eliott feels his stomach drop. “The lunatic! You want to give your precious map to someone like him? A man who had to become a pirate because no one else would hire him after he went crazy?”</p><p>Eliott feels himself freeze. How would Munier even know that? But he thinks back, thinks back to the records and the way Richelieu had dismissed him out of hand because of the rumors that he was crazy. How he’d only managed to keep a job until another one of his moods set in and his boss lost their patience, how one of the reasons Imane and Idriss had suggested piracy in the first place was because it was something in which Eliott had a useful skill and the hours were less regular. </p><p>“What are you talking about?” Lucas asks, confused at the same time as Eliott asks, “How do you know that?”</p><p>Munier laughs and turns, addressing Eliott. “So you haven’t told him. We’ve been watching you for a while you know. Not as slick as you all seem to think you are, stopping our ships and copying the pieces of the map. We knew what you were up to, so we did some digging.” He turns to Lucas. “He’s crazy, just like your mother. You’d do well to stay away from people like that.”</p><p>“Shut up,” Lucas growls.</p><p>He barely registers Lucas moving next to him, reaching out, tracing a soft hand in the small of his back. But then suddenly, he realizes. This time it’s Lucas reminding him he’s there, that he’s not going anywhere.</p><p>“You don’t know him,” Lucas tells Munier, his words strong and unflinching. “But I do. And no matter what happened in his past he is kind and strong in a way that you never will be. So yes, I’d trust him more than I’d trust you in any situation. You won’t change that by telling me stories designed to scare me. And now you’ll get to watch as your empire burns to the ground and we disappear with everything you’ve been searching for.”</p><p>“And how are you going to do that?” Munier asks snarkily. “Is the rest of your crew like him? Because then I really don’t have any hope for you–”</p><p>“I told you to shut up,” Lucas says, cutting him off and stalking quickly across the room toward Munier. Eliott watches the fear flash in Munier’s eyes. Lucas pauses, drawing out his next words. “I’m tired of hearing about things that don’t matter.” Munier flinches and has barely any time to react before Lucas has drawn his sword. “How is this going to go Munier?” Lucas says calmly, pressing the point of his sword into Munier’s neck. “It’s up to you.”</p><p>It’s amazing how quickly Munier’s demeanor changes once he realizes Lucas isn’t planning on turning against Eliott or the crew of the <em> Black Rose </em>. Eliott wonders, for a moment, what delusion Munier is laboring under to think that Lucas, after all the years he spent running from his father, after the days he spent locked up by Munier himself, might actually consider the options Munier is offering. Munier is fighting a losing battle, and he’s just beginning to finally realize it.</p><p>Maybe it’s because he’s never been in a situation in which he didn’t have the upper hand. Maybe he just wasn’t prepared for the reality that even those with the power always have somewhere to fall. Or maybe he never considered what it would be like to care enough about someone to fight for them. To sail across an ocean for them, or take back something that had been stolen. Once, maybe, Eliott wouldn’t have been able to imagine it either. But that’s not the case any more.</p><p>Munier looks up with wild eyes at Lucas, like he knows he’s run out of moves. He’d never have been a match in swordsmanship to Lucas anyway, so Eliott gives him credit that he doesn’t even try.</p><p>“Call. Off. Your. Men.” Lucas says sternly, emphasizing every word as the sword stays in place, an ever present threat.</p><p>In that moment, Eliott is glad that no one else knows Lucas as well as he does, that no one else has really <em> seen </em> the man that hides behind the rough exterior. Because then Munier would know that Lucas would be unlikely to ever actually hurt him with that weapon unless he was evenly matched. He wouldn’t think it fair or just. But as it is, Munier can only see the version of Lucas weathered by years of constant self-protection, and the steely gaze of a man holding metal to his throat.</p><p>Munier barely moves, but Eliott sees as the fight drains out of him.</p><p>“Fine,” he says quietly, his mouth barely moving as he holds his head still, not wanting to tempt his position. “Fine.”</p><p>Lucas gestures at Eliott to bind Munier’s hands together behind his back, which he does quickly before Munier has a chance to change his mind. And then Lucas walks him toward the door, sword at his back, and nudges him out onto the deck.</p><p>When they emerge, Eliott is pleased to notice that some of Munier’s crew has been rounded up. Even after direct orders from Munier to not surrender, the crew of the <em> Black Rose </em> has managed to subdue many of them, gathering them in a corner, surrounded by Daphne, Manon, and Arthur.</p><p>But elsewhere, some fights are still ongoing. Imane faces down two young men near the helm and Idriss seems to be locked in a tight contest with another. Others have gone below deck, purportedly to search out stragglers, and Yann has just emerged holding on to a man by the neck of his shirt. The <em> Black Rose </em> seems to be winning sure, but the fight isn’t over. It will be soon though.</p><p>“Okay,” Lucas says, prodding Munier in the back. “Tell your men to surrender. Now.”</p><p>Munier glances back at them with venom in his stare but he seems to realize he has no other option. </p><p>“Stand down,” Munier calls out, but his voice is small, or perhaps doesn’t command the respect he thought it did. ‘Stop!” he tries again, and Eliott can see the desperation start to leak out, can feel the frustration pouring off of him in waves. “You stupid bumbling idiots, I said surrender! Now! Or if that’s too complicated for you, stop! Put your weapons down.”</p><p>That seems to turn some heads. Slowly, the men begin to drop their weapons, raise their hands, but Eliott can see their annoyance grow on their faces. But that doesn’t stop Munier. It seems like Lucas making him call off his men, making him end the fight himself, has opened a floodgate of embarrassment and ridicule. And he doesn’t stop it from flooding out.</p><p>“All those purported skills on the sea and in combat, look where that got us,” Munier continues, spitting out his words with a fervor. “Just wait until Richelieu hears about the mess you’ve gotten us all into. Just imagine how he’s going to feel about that! I’ll have to tell him that I did all I could but the men he gave me were idiots! Couldn’t manage something as simple as fending off a bunch of pirates.”</p><p>His tirade ends in silence. It’s eerie, the lack of sound after the air had been filled with shouts and the sounds of swords clashing. But as Eliott looks around he can see the anger on the men’s faces, the annoyance at Munier’s threats, the fear that they’ve been beaten. </p><p>Glass houses and throwing stones and all that. Munier seems to forget he needs a crew to call himself captain. </p><p>The rest falls into place quickly. Once the fighting is done, the process feels almost normal, more like the raids Eliott has played a part in for years. Quiet down the crew and then load up anything valuable. </p><p>Except this time, in the background, Munier continues to hurl insults at his crew. He’s grasping, Eliott knows, for anything that will retain him even a shred of power. He can’t imagine what Richelieu might do when Munier returns to shore with an empty ship and without the map he’d apparently been sent to recover. But that would be what he deserves, being cast aside by the man who he rested everything on. And Richelieu too, would be damaged by the loss of inventory and the attack on his apparently invincible ship. It would be fitting, Eliott thinks, for this to end like this.</p><p>But he knows he should talk to Lucas. Because this means something to him too. He pulls him aside as Idriss begins to direct the other crew members to load up the <em> Black Rose </em>.</p><p>“What do you need from this?” Eliott asks him.</p><p>Lucas looks at him, confused. “What?”</p><p>“Just...what do you need to happen to be able to feel okay? With Munier, with this ship?”</p><p>Lucas shakes his head. “It’s not up to me.”</p><p>“But if it was?” Eliott grabs his hand, brings it up to his mouth to kiss Lucas’ knuckles. “If it was, what would you need?”</p><p>Lucas pauses, his eyes filling with tears that Eliott hopes are relief. “I just don’t want to have to keep running.”</p><p>Eliott nods. “Then that’s what we’ll do.”</p><p>“And…” Lucas pauses, like he’s unsure of what he’s about to say. But Eliott urges him on. “There’s something else.”</p><p>In the end Lucas wants to offer the men from Munier’s crew safe passage with them back to shore. A way to get on dry land and rid themselves of all the weight of the jobs they’ve taken, to avoid the vitriol that Munier seems to be promising. And Munier’s tirade is the perfect recruitment tool. Many of the men end up accepting the offer, not sparing Munier a second glance as they board the <em> Black Rose </em>, destined for shore and a new start. </p><p>Only a few men stay behind with Munier. Barely enough, if even, to perform all the duties to sail the ship. Munier might not make it back to shore. But Eliott finds he doesn’t dwell on that too much. </p><p>And just before they make their exit, Lucas stops, turns, and strides back, pulling out his sword so it points in Munier’s face. </p><p>“You’ll leave us alone forever now, do you understand me?” he asks, his voice dripping with disdain. “You never saw us. You mention nothing to my father. Is that clear? Because if anything gets back to me...and it will...I’ll know who to come looking for. Nod so I know you understand.”</p><p>Munier stares up at Lucas, eyes wide, but he tilts his head the fraction of an inch Lucas’ sword allows for and Eliott knows that Munier won’t say a word. It seems to satisfy Lucas too, who drops his sword and turns, making his way back to board the <em> Black Rose </em>, not sparing Munier another glance. </p><p>It’s like something has closed and they leave Munier to his empty shell of promised glory.</p><p> </p><p>Eliott watches as they sail away from the mostly empty ship, knowing it might take days until Munier figures out how to fix the parts they disabled to get her sailing again. </p><p>It’s not the kind of revenge Eliott had spent those first few years of sleepless nights after his father died imagining. He hasn’t confronted Richelieu, hasn’t gotten him to beg for forgiveness. But it still feels like an ending and something releases in his chest. It feels like a change all the same, a way he’s made an impact. The crown jewel of Richelieu’s fleet is damaged, and all the money gone with it. And there’s a crew that will never return to a Richelieu ship after seeing how quickly Munier was willing to toss them aside to save himself.</p><p>And, Eliott thinks, as he reaches a hand into his pocket and feels the worn paper brush against his fingertips, they’ll be the ones with the treasure. Taking that away feels like justice.</p><p>Lucas returning to the <em> Black Rose </em> is like night and day, his worries and stress falling off of him quickly, his smile returning as every member of the crew greets him with enthusiasm. It’s the way his shoulders relax when Yann sees him and pulls him into a hug. Eliott hopes it feels like coming home. Because it is, or Eliott wants it to be. He wants Lucas to feel like he has a place that’s his.</p><p> </p><p>Later, they talk about the thing that haunts him. The piece of himself that Eliott’s never quite managed to understand, that always made him feel like there was something wrong, something to be ashamed of. What he only had questions for, never answers.</p><p>“But you heard what Munier said?” Eliott asks quietly, his hands lying uselessly in his lap. They’re sitting in Eliott’s small cabin and in a way, it’s a relief to even see Lucas sitting there again, across from him on the cot.</p><p>But another part of Eliott is nervous, scared of what this might bring. It’s been hard for people to accept that there aren’t necessarily answers, that he might act strangely sometimes, excitable with grand ideas, or other times be unable to get up in the morning.</p><p>It’s something that’s always followed him, this hidden weight that he could never see coming. It’s something he’s never really had a name for, terrified of trying to explain only to be called crazy or useless, but Imane and Idriss had listened when he told them that he didn’t understand why sometimes he felt so incredibly good that he had to be talked down from the sky and why other times he felt like weights had been tied to his ankles and he’d been thrown in the sea. </p><p>He’d thought about it a lot when Lucas had told him about his mother. The similarities in their stories felt so real to him. The shame, wanting to hide, others not understanding. But the same way Lucas had tried to be there for her, Imane and Idriss were there for him. They were there when he was fired from all of his factory and dock jobs when he inevitably had days when he couldn’t show up and they figured out a way to make sure that they could all stick together and make something of themselves. It’s a kindness that Eliott has never really felt he deserved – all those years he dragged them down but still they picked him up and carried him with them.</p><p>Lucas’ eyes are wide when Eliott finishes telling him everything. But it’s not fear or disgust, not that Eliott had really thought it would be, but it’s gentle concern. </p><p>“I’m glad you told me,” Lucas says finally, giving him a sweet smile as he reaches out and runs his fingertips along Eliott’s cheek. “This way I can know what to expect, help you if you need it.”</p><p>Eliott leans into Lucas’ touch. “You want that?”</p><p>“Of course,” Lucas replies quickly, “it’s part of being with you. And…” he pauses, picking his next words, “And I want everything.”</p><p><em> Everything </em>. Lucas wants everything with him. Is he sure?</p><p>It’s the thing about being a pirate that’s always felt comfortable to him – constantly moving, an outcast in a way he’d chosen. It was the way he wouldn’t have to hope or try for acceptance that he would just be able to exist as he is. And then Lucas came along.</p><p>Eliott leans forward slightly and presses his forehead against Lucas’, closing his eyes and breathing in.</p><p>“I would have told you sooner but I never know what to say,” Eliott whispers. “There’s a part of me that always worries that people will react like Munier did and everything with us happened so quickly and there wasn’t time…”</p><p>He trails off.</p><p>Lucas cups Eliott’s face in his hands, pulls his face up so they’re looking at each other.</p><p>“Whenever you wanted to tell me was the right time to tell me,” Lucas says firmly, searching into Eliott’s eyes. “This doesn’t change anything for me. I want <em> you </em>. Please don’t doubt that.”</p><p>The corner of Eliott’s mouth turns up as his face breaks into a smile, starting small and growing gradually as Lucas continues to look at him.</p><p>“Okay,” Eliott replies. “Okay.”</p><p>Lucas kisses him.</p><p>And then he kisses him again, slower this time, his mouth opening up under Eliott’s own as Eliott tilts his face towards him, licking at the seam of his lips.</p><p>It’s raw in a way that it hasn’t been before, bare and open in that they have nothing else to hide from each other. That this, <em> this </em> is what they both want. <em> This </em> is what they’re fighting for. The thing that maybe they’ve been searching for all along.</p><p>Lucas pulls back for a moment, just enough for him to look at Eliott, meet his gaze.</p><p>“Eliott,” he says softly, his thumb trailing across his cheekbone. He looks so beautiful like this, lit up by the moonlight flooding into the room. He takes a breath. “I love you.”</p><p>Eliott’s heart skips. It takes everything in him to not kiss him right away, to not funnel all his emotions into the spaces where they connect. But he stops himself. Stops and looks at Lucas, beaming.</p><p>“I love you too,” he says. And then he kisses him again, presses Lucas’ answering smile to his own as they fit together, like they were made for each other.</p><p>***</p><p>They kiss for a long time after that, until Eliott’s lips are red and raw but it’s still not enough. All he can think is that he wants Lucas, closer, closer. He pushes at Lucas’ shoulder until he lies back and follows him down to lie on top of him, pushing him into the mattress.</p><p>He moves down to press his lips against Lucas’ jaw, behind his ear, his neck. He bites at the skin gently, swiping over it with his tongue to soothe the sting and revels in the way Lucas gasps, the sound filling the darkening room. Here, with Lucas under him, their bodies pressed together, Eliott feels all his worries slip away.</p><p>Lucas too, seems to need him. He reaches up, twisting his fingers through Eliott’s hair and pulling, just enough to send sparks down Eliott’s spine and Eliott has to kiss him. He has to get his lips on him, on Lucas’ skin, tasting him. Lucas groans, shifting up against him, his hips tilting slightly.</p><p>“Eliott,” he whispers, his voice breaking and Eliott knows he needs more.</p><p>He sits up slightly to start at the buttons on Lucas’ shirt, delicately popping each one open, teasing Lucas as his breath quickens. They’ve barely started but it still somehow feels overwhelming in the best way. There’s something about almost losing the thing you want most that makes it that much sweeter when it’s yours again. </p><p>He nudges Lucas up until he can remove his shirt, sliding it off his shoulders and throwing it to the floor. And then he’s back on Lucas, hands grasping Lucas’ cheeks to bring his face up to him, kissing him deep as he kneels above him, surrounding him, filling his senses with him and only him. </p><p>Lucas reaches down and fumbles with the top of Eliott’s pants, Eliott pressing his face into the space between Lucas’ neck and shoulder, biting down gently. </p><p>Lucas inhales sharply. “More,” he says, “more.”</p><p>They rid themselves of their pants quickly and then Lucas presses Eliott back, straddling him as they settle back on the bed, bare skin pressed together. Lucas leans down and kisses him, filthy and deep as Eliott holds his hips, feeling the soft skin beneath his fingers. </p><p>“Is this okay?” Lucas asks, moving his lips to bite at Eliott’s neck. </p><p>Eliott gasps. “Yes.”</p><p>“And this?” Lucas moves down to press a kiss to his collarbone, to his chest, moves his mouth over to swipe his tongue over Eliott’s nipple.</p><p>“Yes,” Eliott moans, his back arching off the mattress. He can feel Lucas’ smirk against his skin. He knows Lucas has always loved the way he can affect Eliott. </p><p>“And what about this?” Lucas asks again, heading lower still, tongue trailing down Eliott’s stomach, stopping to kiss his hip bone and then the crease of his thigh. </p><p>“Please, Lucas,” Eliott manages, his voice thin.</p><p>“And this too?” Lucas asks and Eliott watches as he hovers over him, breath hot against him. Eliott sees the smile tugging at the corner of Lucas’ mouth, knows how much he loves to tease him. </p><p>“God, yes,” Eliott says, his hand grasping at the sheets in anticipation as his hips make an aborted thrust up. “Please.”</p><p>“Whatever you need,” Lucas says, and then takes Eliott into his mouth. </p><p>Everything narrows down to Lucas, the feeling of his fingers pressed into his hips, the swipe of his tongue, the slide of his mouth. Eliott moans, reaching a hand down to fist in Lucas’ hair, feeling the soft strands between his fingers.</p><p>It doesn’t take long for Eliott to feel the tide approaching, for the feeling to build up inside of him and then he’s tugging at Lucas’ hair, pulling him off.</p><p>Lucas sits up, looking at him, questioning, and Eliott lets out a small laugh.</p><p>“Didn’t want it to be over yet,” he explains, and then he reaches out, pulling Lucas up and to him, kissing him slowly, licking into his mouth and tasting himself on Lucas’ tongue. It sends a shudder through his body. Lucas moans into his mouth and he can feel him there, hard against his hip. </p><p>Eliott reaches out and presses at Lucas, pushing until Lucas is lying back against the pillows and Eliott can pull himself up and over him, pressing their hips together. </p><p>He spits on his hand and reaches down between them, taking them both into his hand as Lucas writhes beneath him and lets out a loud moan. They’re both close, Eliott knows, and he knows it won’t take much. He twists his wrist, feeling himself rushing closer and closer to the edge. His rhythm starts to falter and he feels Lucas run a hand down his back, grasping at him.</p><p>He presses his face into Lucas’ neck and whispers “I love you” and apparently, that’s enough.</p><p>Lucas arches up into Eliott’s hand, a moan escaping his lips, and Eliott follows soon after, working himself through it until he falls, shuddering, against Lucas. </p><p>They lie there for a moment, catching their breath as Lucas brings his arms around Eliott, holding him close, his fingers tracing a soothing rhythm down Eliott’s arm.</p><p>He presses a soft kiss to Eliott’s temple. “I love you too,” he whispers and Eliott knows he’ll never grow tired of hearing it.</p><p>“I love you, I love you, I love you.”</p><p>***</p><p>
  <br/>
  <br/>
</p><p>In the morning, Eliott wakes to a gentle caress of sunlight across his face. He sighs, quietly, unable to stop himself from the sense of peace that comes with consciousness – one that hasn’t come in a while. And then he reaches out, across the small and flimsy cot, searching for Lucas to pull him close, kiss his forehead and breathe him in as he steals just a few more minutes of rest.</p><p>Only instead his fingers only brush against the blanket, cool and empty.</p><p>Eliott blinks awake quickly, sitting up and looking around the small room quickly like he might suddenly find Lucas there. But that search too, comes up empty. Instead, Eliott swings his legs over to meet the floor and gets dressed quickly, stopping, only briefly, before he’s out the door.</p><p>He finds Lucas at the bow looking out over the water they have yet to traverse.</p><p>Eliott approaches him slowly, not wanting to startle him, but Lucas still jumps as Eliott closes that last bit of distance, coming to lean on the railing next to him. It’s just an effect Eliott seems to have on him.</p><p>Lucas’ eyes look bluer here, next to the water, and Eliott thinks back to that first time he saw him in the tavern. The way the candlelight had flickered over his face, made him look mysterious and exciting. But Eliott thinks he prefers this version of Lucas – open and calm, content, maybe, with the things around him. Eliott hopes so, at least.</p><p>“I was wondering where you went,” Eliott says quietly as he leans next to Lucas, knocking their shoulders together. “My bed was cold when I woke up.”</p><p>A small smile plays at the corner of Lucas’ mouth. “Is that all I am to you? Warmth in your bed?”</p><p>Eliott pretends to consider it, but Lucas shoves him and they fall together laughing. </p><p>“Of course not,” Eliott whispers, kissing Lucas’ temple. “You’re also my private swordfighting tutor.”</p><p>At that Lucas giggles, tilting his head back to look up at Eliott through his lashes. It’s all Eliott can do to stop himself from swooning right there. </p><p>“I have to say,” Lucas replies. “I’m a big fan of the progress we’ve made. What the lessons have really...become. Beneficial to the both of us I’d say.”</p><p>Eliott bites his lip, a blush spreading across his face. “Yes, beneficial...is a word for it.”</p><p>And then he kisses him, he has to. Big and bright, the kind that nearly knocks Lucas off his feet as Eliott brings his hand to Lucas’ cheek and connects their lips. But it’s worth it. Because Lucas is here with him. </p><p>When Eliott pulls back, he finds Lucas looking up at him, slightly dazed but smiling. And then Eliott notices how he wraps his arms around himself, bracing himself from the cold. </p><p>“Thought you might be able to use this,” he says, procuring the blue coat, the one he couldn’t help but take because it reminded him of Lucas, back before he was sure this was even something.</p><p>Lucas’ smile only grows.</p><p>“How do you always seem to know what I need?” He pulls the jacket on. Eliott loves how it brings out the color of his eyes.</p><p>“I don’t,” Eliott says, “I just love you.”</p><p>Lucas' face softens and he takes a step toward him, reaching out to grab his hand.</p><p>“And,” Eliott trails off, a little sheepish as he admits it, “you left it...the last time that you left and I wasn’t sure you knew where it was anymore.”</p><p>“Eliott,” Lucas says softly, somehow hearing what Eliott won’t say out loud. “I’m not planning on running. I won’t ever leave again unless you tell me to. I want you to know that.”</p><p>Eliott smiles and nods, leaning down to kiss him again.</p><p>“Okay,” he says, because he wants Lucas to know he hears him. “Then you should know I’m never planning on letting you go.”</p><p>Lucas blushes. “I’m okay with that.”</p><p> </p><p>They end up taking the former members of Munier’s crew who had left with them to the first bit of land they come across. Eliott vaguely recognizes the port – small and barely notable, but still lively enough to get the young men where they need to go. They slip in quickly and quietly, telling the men not to share that they had just been on the <em> Black Rose </em>. But then again, it wouldn’t much matter with how fast they’re planning on heading out to sea again. </p><p>They stop for the afternoon, just to offload some of the things they’d taken from Munier’s ship. It’s a small port, yes, but Alexia happens to have a connection there and they manage to get rid of most of the things they don’t need to hold on to, clearing up the storage on the ship and leaving room for what might come.</p><p>And then, a few hours later, they’re all but ready to head back to the ship, back to the promises of the <em> Black Rose </em> and the map they’ve hidden inside. And Eliott thinks he knows where they’re headed next and realizes he’d assumed the same about Lucas.</p><p>And then it hits him, that maybe Lucas isn’t ready to go. Because once they go there is no going back. Once they find what they’ve been looking for, Eliott knows they’ll all but have to disappear. And he doesn’t want Lucas to have unfinished business, wishing for closure he never got. So he stops him as they head down toward the docks.</p><p>“Are you ready to go back on the ship?” Eliott asks him, trying to find any traces of regret in Lucas’ face. But he finds nothing. “We can go after your father, if you wanted. We could split off from the crew and go find him if that’s what you need. I would do that for you.”</p><p>“And do what?” Lucas shrugs. “No, it’s okay. There’s nothing else I want to do to him except never have to think about him again.”</p><p>“Are you sure?” Eliott doesn’t want to press too much, but he wants to make sure that Lucas isn’t giving anything up just to make it easier on him. If this is what he needs so they can move forward, Eliott will go with him.</p><p>“I said goodbye to my father when I stole a piece of a map out of his study while he was sleeping and never looked back,” Lucas replies, and he looks sure, decided. “The only thing I want now is to be with you. And for us to be happy.”</p><p>Eliott smiles. He’ll never get enough of Lucas saying things like that.</p><p>“That’s what I want too,” Eliott says, as if Lucas could have had any doubts about it. “I just want to be with you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Lucas says softly, leaning closer to brush their fingers together, “then that’s what we’ll do.”</p><p>“Okay,” Eliott says, turning to look out at the sea where he can see the majestic shape of the <em> Black Rose </em> bobbing in the water. “Then we just have one last stop to make.”</p><p>“One last stop,” Lucas echoes.</p><p> </p><p>In the end the planning is easy, having chased this dream for so many years. The map is almost complete, hidden away in Imane’s office, ready to finally be able to lead them somewhere. And this time, when Imane calls a meeting, Eliott pulls Lucas along with him.</p><p>They fit the piece into the puzzle together, and Eliott vaguely feels like it’s a ceremony of some kind, tying them altogether, cementing their futures as something they’d previously only been able to imagine.</p><p>But along with the excitement comes the sadness. Because they know that finding the treasure means that the <em> Black Rose </em> cannot sail any longer, at least not under that name and not under her current captain. </p><p>Lucas reminds them that despite what he told Munier, despite what Munier promised, there’s no guarantee that he won’t spill the secret and Richelieu is likely to figure it out anyway. Sailing again as pirates on the <em> Black Rose </em> after finding the treasure makes them targets. And in any case for Eliott, Imane and Idriss especially, the <em> Black Rose </em> was never meant to be permanent, just a way to get by, survive, until they felt like they’d be okay without it. </p><p>And with each passing day Eliott feels closer to his dreams. The cottage grows clearer, and with it, this time, images of Lucas there too.</p><p>They call a crew meeting to go over the details. When Imane announces that this will be the last journey she makes as captain, a tide of sadness sweeps over the crew. Everyone understands, of course, but it feels a little like losing family in a way. Everyone will leave and go their separate ways, find their new adventure, and nothing will ever be like it is now.</p><p>But Eliott knows, despite it all, that none of them will stay apart forever. It’s just not like that, they all mean too much to one another. </p><p>They discuss their plans for the future as Eliott puts them on course. Basile and Daphne are planning to move to the country, perhaps near to where Basile’s grandfather once had a farm, to raise their children – the first of which is apparently on the way. Arthur says he’ll probably stick by the sea and Alexia announces that she might head back toward Europe. Manon says she wants to go back to Tortuga and her tavern, splitting her portion (which everyone had assured her she deserves) with Mika and setting herself up more comfortably with her business to retire early. Emma says she’s going to go with Manon. Yann decides he wants to learn everything he never got to when he didn’t have the time and Idriss says he wants to settle down and get a house near his sister. Eliott can’t help but think he won’t be far behind. </p><p>And perhaps least surprising of all, Imane tells everyone that she and Sofiane have decided to get married and Sofiane can’t hide the grin that shows on his face.</p><p>And then they ask Eliott. And maybe he should have been prepared, had an answer at the ready. In fact, he used to think he knew what he saw for his future, but now everything’s changed. So when Daphne turns to him and asks <em> where will you go? </em> Eliott only has one answer.</p><p>“Wherever Lucas is.”</p><p>Because it’s true, Eliott would follow him to the ends of the earth and back again if he needed to. But he doesn’t need to, not now, not for this. Instead, he just has to follow the stars.</p><p>He turns to find Lucas looking at him with a half loving and half teasing expression on his face. He knows later Lucas will call him cheesy, but that he’ll also kiss him just below his ear and whisper that he’d follow him too, always, because that’s who they are.</p><p>But for now Eliott settles for reaching out and pulling Lucas into his lap, sighing as Lucas leans back and rests against his chest. Because they’re here now, holding each other, as the <em> Black Rose </em> sets out for her final journey.</p><p> </p><p>
  <em> One year later </em>
</p><p>Somewhere, at the edge of a sea that churns indigo in the darkness glittering with the reflection of hundreds of stars, two boys stand close, their heads thrown back towards the sky.</p><p>A small cottage sits behind them, the warmth of the orange light from the fire bleeding out into the night. The weather has just turned cool, beckoning in clear skies and a sight for miles. The boys whisper to one another, soft and quiet, their voices mixing with the sound of the waves crashing on the rocks below. </p><p>It’s beautiful and quiet, this place. The kind of place where strangers might appear, but no questions will be asked. A place where someone might disappear, if only to the few that might be looking for them. </p><p>A safe place to land. A refuge.</p><p><em> Refuge </em>. It’s the first thing Eliott had thought when they’d found the place. The way the sight of the old cottage had made his heart settle, had brought a smile to his face that Lucas only mirrored, and he was done. He knew it had to be theirs. </p><p>Imane had been with them too then, with Sofiane, shortly after they married. They’d just found a place a little closer to town, and a little farther from the edges of the cliffs as Sofiane said the thought of their future children running around there made him nervous. </p><p>But the sea always calmed Eliott, and he wanted to be able to hear it as he fell asleep, so they’d looked for something right there, nestled into the rocks, away from prying eyes. And that first night, he’d pulled Lucas to his chest and listened as the waves sang, grateful though, for the first time since he was very young, to be on solid land.</p><p>But that was months ago. And though he sometimes finds himself dreaming of the high seas, he’s always grateful to find their swords nestled away in a closet when he wakes up. It’s the kind of future he’d once longed for.</p><p>They’re standing in their garden, surrounded on all sides by a dozen rose bushes. Ones Lucas had picked out, planted from seeds and nurtured until they grew. Eliott hears the bushes rustle next to him and then Felix steps out from the darkness, stretching and then winding lazily around Eliott’s ankles. Felix, too, has seemed to adapt quite well to life on land.</p><p>Lucas leans back against Eliott’s chest as Eliott reaches up and points out Orion. The two bright stars making up his shoulders, another pair his legs and the three clustered together in the center, creating his belt. It takes a moment for Lucas to see the shapes in Eliott’s mind, the ones he’s showing him, but then, finally, he seems to get it as he excitedly reaches up towards the sky as well and traces out the lines of the Hunter.</p><p>They’ve been doing this nearly every night recently, once the sky cleared from the late summer storms.</p><p>“I love that you show me these, but you know I’m never going to be able to find them again on my own,” Lucas says softly, laughing a little as he looks toward the sky.</p><p>Eliott presses a kiss to Lucas’ shoulder and wraps his arms around Lucas’ middle, holding him close.</p><p>“That’s okay,” he says. “I don’t mind showing you.”</p><p>“You know the one constellation I can always find though?” Lucas murmurs, his hands coming to cover Eliott’s where they rest on his stomach.</p><p>“Which one?”</p><p>“Ursa Major,” Lucas answers, leaning back to find it, pointing up at it once he does, tracing his finger between the stars. </p><p>“There you go,” Eliott encourages.</p><p>“You know why?” </p><p>Eliott shakes his head, knowing that Lucas can feel him as they sway together. </p><p>“Because I need it to find Polaris, just like you showed me,” Lucas answers.</p><p>Eliott can’t help but smile at that. Polaris, the star that had meant so much to him, the thing to trust, the thing to guide him. It’s strange that he hasn’t had to look at it like that in so long, but it sends warmth through him to know that Lucas sees it as something special too.</p><p>“Did you know that you’re like Polaris to me?” Lucas asks a little tentatively, his voice laced with his smile. “My steady sure thing, always leading me home.”</p><p>Eliott laughs into Lucas’ neck. “That’s so cheesy.”</p><p>Lucas shrugs, but he can see Lucas is laughing too.</p><p>“You don’t mind though.”</p><p>“No,” Eliott agrees, kissing Lucas’ ear. “I don’t mind at all.”</p><p>Out here, where the stars shine bright and the air still smells like the sea, two boys stand holding each other and for the first time in a long time, the future isn’t such a mystery.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>love y'all so much. thank you for the support and please let me know what you think!! 💙 🏴☠️</p><p>kudos and comments are much appreciated or you can come find me on tumblr <a href="https://lallemanting.tumblr.com/">@lallemanting</a></p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
</body>
</html>